Breathe
by I.Dream.Of.Hardyz
Summary: Sequel to 'Hold Onto Me'. When Charity moves across the country to escape her past, she thinks she's finally free of her own torture. Only, she's still missing everything and a 'new' face only makes things worse for forgeting. Can she finally break free?
1. Preface

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: This is the sequel to "Hold onto Me" so if you're not interested in reading either of these stories, you've come to the wrong place. Anyway... here it is folks! Blame my insomnia, or maybe the fact that I stayed up all night reading "Twilight" like it was my job, but I've gotten the first chapter done. And I'm pleased with what I've come up with. I think y'all will like it too. Hopefully everyone will love this story as much as y'all loved "Hold onto Me." The song the story is based off of is: "Breathe" - Taylor Swift. I suggest you check it out. :) Enjoy!

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_How is this proving you're stronger? Walking away makes you weaker._

Those words haunted me every night of my life since the summer began. He had said them with complete and utter pain in his eyes and I walked away, fully believing what I was doing was right – correct, it had to be. I believed that what I was doing would lead to something better for me.

It lead me to Chicago, Illinois. It needed to get far away from everything that surrounded my past – everyone I'd met from the WWE, my broke family whom I'd left in shambles, and most of all, my life. So I moved across the country, hopped on a plane and got far away from New York. Far away from all the pain that crippled me.

I started a new life. I cut my hair about four inches shorter, leaving me with a pixie cut. I enrolled in a local college for the fall and I worked at a local diner for money. I rented a nice apartment – out of city's buzz and loud enough that I didn't feel as if I was being swallowed by loneliness.

I even made a couple friends. Alice and Taylor were their names. Best friends since birth, they were eager for a quiet, fresh face to add to their friendship. We went to movies and to concerts – concerts of bands I never even heard of. It was possibly the change I needed.

Everything was fresh. No one knew my name here. I was just Charity Burns to everyone who did know me. They didn't know that I had a past with some of the most loved wrestlers in the WWE, nor did they know of my shambled family or how my brother had died back at the end of June.

They didn't know how hard it was for me to put on a happy face each morning and pretend my entire world wasn't busted at the seams. If you thought I went on and just forgot about the week with the Hardyz and friends, you're sadly mistaken. Like I said, Shannon's words haunted me every chance they got.

Beth called for a while. She left pleading messages on my phone, beckoning for me to call her. She'd understand. She was worried. She wanted to know where I was. She'd spoken to my heartbroken mother. She said she had no idea where I was. Sad thing is, no one of my past did. I detached everything I could.

It broke my heart even more to disconnect my number and get a new one. I couldn't bear if she decided to trace my phone to Chicago. I knew Beth cared a lot, she'd proved it so greatly so many times, but if I went back to her, I'd go back to them all. I needed to stay strong, or weak. Whatever.

Sometimes I'll still wake up crying in the late summer heat. I'll think I'm still back home, Penn only a room away, only to find myself living on my own, surrounded by nothing by the little voice in my head. I'd wake up to my labored breathing, which was always short and bitter, able to focus when they all appeared in my mind.

I figured it'd be easy. I'd be upset for a couple days and then I'd move on. They'd all forget about me and I would too. I'd get on with my life. Yet, there I was, in late August and I couldn't stop myself from thinking it's never easy – impossible, in fact – to forget those you love.

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	2. On the outside

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: 13 reviews? You guys are amazing! :D Glad everyone liked the beginning, ha. So, yeah, I'm just setting the story up still. I'll be putting up pictures of Taylor and Alice (Charity's friends, who you will meet in this chapter) in my profile in just a few minutes, so be sure to check them out. Yeah... that's about it. Hope y'all enjoy. ;)

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Although all my past still haunted me, I spent most of my time trying to avoid it and worked crazy shifts at the diner, working with Taylor. If I was busy, I couldn't think about Shannon and everyone else. Of course, my manager Ted did not mind my hours, but it annoyed Taylor and Alice who were constantly trying to get me to go out with them. A few years older than me, they spent nights out in clubs, hooking up with random guys.

Even if I wasn't running away from my past, that was not me. Being raised by my crazy, overprotective mother had given me enough worry to not go to clubs and bars, her constant voice reminding me of STDs and horny men.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Taylor asked while she cleaned a table one night. She smiled at me while I stood behind a counter, staring out at the darkness. _Café Royale _(yes that was the real name of the diner) was hardly busy late at night so we worked doing nothing for hours, waiting to close at ten.

"I'm sure, Tay," I replied probably for the tenth time that night. She groaned at me, throwing her dish rag at my head, only connecting with just my shoulder.

Taylor was one of those pretty girls you'd be jealous of in high school. She had dark, dark brown hair and hazel eyes that fit her personality perfectly. She was loud and mysterious (an odd combination, yes), always having that smoldering look in her eyes. Guys that came into the diner were instantly awed and often stared. Like any girl like that, she didn't even notice usually. She just went on in her bubbly and bouncy personality, gushing about all the hot guys she saw in the world. (Her newest obsession? Robert Pattinson).

"You're never any fun," she complained to me, leaning against the counter and looking up to pout in my direction.

"Partying is not my scene," I reminded her with a sigh. "Plus, I'm not even of age to drink."

She giggled. "So? Do you know how many girls younger than you work those clubs like they're my age? You'd hardly be the youngest there."

Shaking my head, I rearranged the salt and pepper shakers on the counter for the fourth time that night. "I wasn't raised like that. I follow the rules, Tay."

She sighed, leaning on me with a wide grin. "I know… which is why you suck. Such a pretty girl and doesn't take advantage of it." _I could say the same for you, _I thought with a little grin of my own. "You never have any fun," she repeated. "Can't you just come out with Alice and me once?" she whined, toying with her apron.

"NO!' I said with a laugh while she gave the puppy dog eyes. And as if it were fated, Alice walked in then, fully decked out in her clubbing outfit. A short (so short my mother would have fainted) mini-skirt and a tight fitting tank top incased her blonde body, her brown eyes glistening.

"Let me guess," Alice said with a grin. "She turned us down again."

Taylor nodded glumly. "No fun."

I smiled at their pouting and pretended I had work to do. Just looking at Alice in her outfit made me miss home and how much my mother would be panicking if she saw someone in an outfit like that. Sometimes I wondered if she was born in the eighteen hundreds with the way she acted. Even so, I missed her sharp eye so much.

"I have fun," I corrected her with a sigh, leaning my body against the counter.

Alice shook her head, blonde, flippy tresses moving swiftly with her. "Yeah, sure. You haven't come out _once _with us since you came here. You come to work and then disappear. Do you even know your way around the city?" she asked in an accusing tone.

I slumped farther back because I did not. The grocery store was ever-so close to my apartment and the diner was only two blocks away, so I didn't really need to have an adventure around the windy city of Chicago.

My red face made Taylor shake her head in pity. "Come on, Charity. Do something with us."

I sighed, shaking my head. "I'm not going clubbing with you guys."

Alice's eyes lit up then. "Alright, fine. How about this, then. You come shopping with us tomorrow. We'll pick you up some clothes," she said, eyeing my distressed jeans and over-worn t-shirt, "and we'll just have a girl's day. You'll see what Chicago really holds."

Quickly, my mind filled with ways to get out of the idea. "You guys are going to be hung-over," I objected fretfully, trying to think of any way to stop my twenty-two year old friends from dragging me out of my own self-pity.

Taylor laughed loudly then, slapping my shoulder. "You're hilarious, Charity."

Alice smiled too, and replied, "She's right. So, you live on Chestnut, right? We'll pick you up at two-thirty and make sure you wear your comfortable shoes!"

Before I could protest, Alice ran out, yelling something about "coming back before Taylor's shift ended." As she scrolled away, just barely not displaying everything she owned, I glared at Taylor. "I hate you."

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	3. The little voice in my head

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: Sorry for a bit of a wait for this chapter. No excuses, I've been lazy. I start school again tomorrow - gag - so updates will probably be about once a week or so again. Sorry about that. Oh well... Happy New Year and enjoy!

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It was almost ten when I finally got to leave the diner. I closed with Taylor talking in my ear (did she ever stop?) and walked out onto the sidewalk. Of course, it had to be raining. Did it ever stop here? I sighed and covered myself better, hoping to somehow offset the rain.

It was freezing, even for August. Probably only fifty-five degrees out. Wind gusted around me, only making my small walk home even more annoying. As I walked though, I pondered my stupidity. I'd been living in Chicago for how long? Almost two months and I still didn't know my way around? Pretty pathetic, actually. But that had been becoming my middle name.

Run away from everything. Start over and don't worry about the mess you leave behind. Forget – or try to – the broken and kiddish look on Shannon Brian Moore's face. Seemed so simple and oh-so pathetic. I should really start to expect this feeling. I shouldn't get so comfortable in it though.

Before I realized though, I was front of the apartment building. It's relatively nice, the building I live in. The owner was very generous when he saw me, probably saw a young frightened girl and figured, hell, give her the apartment for dirt cheap. Doesn't bother me how I got it… I'm just glad to be not living on the streets.

The elevator played some overplayed 90s tune while I waited to get to the fourth floor. It creaked along the way, giving me chills. I hated elevators. One of my biggest fears in life was getting stuck in one and then watching it fall down to the ground.

It was almost silent when I heard the voice and it startled me even further. _This is really childish, Char._ It said, its tone disapproving. _Everything you're doing is wrong._

I cringed. "Go away," I muttered. I thought it was gone… it hadn't been there in a month. No… why was it back?

_I'm so disappointed in you._

Tears welled in my eyes as the elevator opened and I stormed out. Passing the numbers 1D, 2D, 3D, 4D, and finally to my own, 5D. It took me a moment to pull out my key and fidget the door open. The voice in my head continued to mock me angrily. No matter how hard I tried, it just stood there.

_I'm not leaving, Char. You will make things right._

* * *

The next morning I awoke to dried tears, again. Sighing, I rubbed my face quietly. It didn't surprise me anymore, waking up to a sticky face and a heavy heart. Never had I honestly gotten a good night's sleep since moving to Chicago, but I didn't expect to. Even with the quietest of neighbors, my body wouldn't allow me to sleep.

And the voice in my head didn't go away. It taunted me – angry and hurt, sitting there in my mind, all comfortable.

It made me feel even worse because I was at fault. Everything was my fault.

Sighing though, I got up and walked toward the shower. I was sure if I wasn't ready by the time Alice and Taylor came along, they'd break the door down and pull me out into the streets as is. And in Winnie the Pooh pajamas and my hair looking like I got stuck in an electrical socket, I surely was not wanting that.

The shower didn't do anything for me, though. My muscles were still tense and my mind was still exhausted. The voice – almost as if the entire person was there – sat inside me, watching me with anger. I tried to ignore it, but it's hard to ignore the one you love.

_You'll enjoy today, it's a start. Alice and Taylor are good for you. Unlike the hermit you're trying to be, they'll make you have fun. You need to have fun._

The voice was being nice. "Go away," I moaned. "Leave me alone!"

The voice chuckled then and I sighed. _I'm not going away, Char. Well, I will, but it'll be a long time until I do. Knowing you, you'll stretch that out even further. Char will be back._

"Great," I muttered. "I'm stuck looking like I belong in a mental health home. Just lovely."

He chuckled inside of my head again and I scowled, just as there was a knock on the door. _Answer it,_ the voice prompted.

"What did you think I was going to do?" I asked it, shaking my head and going in that direction.

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	4. I don't knowwhatto be without you around

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: YAY! I'm updating again! Aren't y'all happy? :) Hehe. Well the voice will be named in this chapter ... and I hope that most of you understand the ending... well, yeah. I'll try to update soon as possible! :D Enjoy!

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Another knock surfaced on the door before I even got to it. "I'm coming!" I called, rolling my eyes. Figures they'd be that impatient. _I like __Alice__… she's hot_. Rolling my eyes I added to my statement quietly, "Lovely."

"You're up!" Alice squealed when I opened the metal door, throwing her arms around me while a wide small danced all over her lips. Beside her, Taylor shared an equal grin. "We figured we'd have to haul you out of here!"

I shook my head, offering them inside. "No, I'm not that… yeah," I muttered, trailing off. _Not yet, _the voice added for me. I scowled, trying not to reply outloud. _You're not very nice, I thought to him._ He chuckled inside of me. "Can I get you guys anything to drink?"

"What do you have?" Taylor asked absentmindedly. She was in my livingroom, looking at a few pictures I had set up. One of them was the picture of Penn and me, the one I cherished so greatly. If only I could go back to a time like that, when I didn't have a true worry in the world. Penn was still alive and healthy, with me. Of course, I was a walking doormat.

"Uhm… water, apple juice and some Sprite." I came up beside her. Alice was next to her and was also staring at the pictures of the ones I loved. There was one next to Penn and I of my parents just after their wedding on their honeymoon and they looked absolutely blissful. If only that bliss could have lasted more than it did.

"Who is this?" Alice asked, pointing to the picture of Penn and me, specifically to Penn. "He's hot!"

Inside my head, the voice rejoiced. _She thinks I'm hot too! Damn!_ Growling, I hissed, "Shut up Penn."

"Huh?" Taylor asked.

Hoping she didn't catch what I said, I smiled. "That's my brother, Penn."

"Where is he?"

Sighing, I put on a brave face. "He died back in June from cancer." It was the most I had ever gone into my personal life before Chicago to them and I wondered a bit if I had said too much. For the time I had already known them, I was careful with what I said, careful so no one would find me.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry," Alice cried out, hugging me suddenly. Behind her, Taylor nodded, her eyes sad. Inside my head, Penn chuckled over the girls. He had grown to be sarcastic in my subconscious. "You poor thing. Why didn't you ever tell us?"

I didn't answer, but looked away instead.

"Were you guys' twins?" Taylor asked then, looking closer at the photo. "You look like twins."

"No," I said, my voice just above a whisper. "We weren't. He was a year older."

"We're sorry," Taylor said to me glumly. "That's terrible."

"Thank you," I mumbled back, ignoring the voice while it gloated about Alice calling him hot. "I miss him a lot… though _sometimes_ it feels like he's still here in a way, you know?"

I hadn't told anyone (well, who would I tell?) about hearing Penn in my head. Whether or not I was losing it and I belonged in a mental home, I didn't know, but I figured trying to explain that to _anyone _wouldn't do me any good. How do you explain that your dead brother was in your head, making comments about how you were living your life?

For a while, he disappeared. When I fist moved to Chicago, he was in my head all the time, scolding me for my 'stupidity' and how 'it was not what he meant by becoming stronger.' Penn sided with Shannon on the weaker subject.

_How is this proving you're stronger? Walking away makes you weaker._ Shannon's voice ripped through my mind and I fought back tears. Hearing his voice was even worse. Shannon's boyish and southern tone just made me weak to the knees and with that voice, came his heartbroken face, the one I'd been trying to get rid of for so long.

Penn disappeared from my mind only about three weeks ago and I finally thought, maybe, possibly he was moving on, more importantly – I was moving on. His arrival back to my weird head last night proved otherwise, though.

And though Penn, or whatever subconscious voice that sounded like my brother, danced in my head, it didn't feel like the real thing. He was sarcastic too often, only allowing me the true Penn when it became absolutely necessary. I missed that Penn the most. Angry Penn, he tore through me too often. I knew he was disappointed in what I was doing, but it felt like I was too far in to go back to what I once was.

Charity from New York was nothing like Charity from Chicago. And Penn knew it and he wouldn't give up on trying to change me back to the girl I once was.

"Charity, are you okay?" Taylor voice –and her face in my own – broke me from my thoughts. Her worrisome expression lay thick in front of me while she and Alice exchanged a glance. "You look positively green."

_Alice__ is cute when she's upset._ "Shut up!" I squealed, eyes embarrassed at my brother's words. Even Penn, amazing Penn, could be such a boy when it came to a girl.

Alice looked taken back then, her expression more guarded. "Excuse me?"

Chuckling awkwardly, I shook my head. "Sorry, I was thinking of something else. I'm fine. Are we leaving?" Hopefully, they would buy it. _You're making me look insane,_ I told him.

_I'm just doing what I'm supposed to, _he reminded me.

_And that would be? _I challenged. _Making me look like I'm crazy?_

_It's certainly an added perk,_ he agreed.

Scowling softly, I added one last thing, _I liked you better when you weren't in my head. Death has made you a jerk._

My comments towards what I was assuming was my "brother" didn't bother me anymore. I love him dearly, but the Penn that he was being had to go. So, my comments even if a little more 'not Charity-like', didn't bother either of us. To him, my comments were progress.

_Love you too, sis._

"Yeah," Taylor stated with a frown, "We're ready. Right, Alice?"

"Right," Alice said with a nod, a similar frown on her face. "Let's go."

* * *

Shopping with Alice and Taylor was exhausting, to say the least. It was almost out of a movie scene, the way they shopped. Clothes were thrown all around me, to me, and whatever else there could be. It had only been an hour or so since we started and I already felt as if it was time for a nap.

And we were just getting started. Not only did Alice and Taylor have four more stores to hit, but they were dead set on making me see the city and showing me around. Taylor even said once that "You can't live in a city so large and not know the sites." She was right of course, but with Penn making comments all day long in my head, I was just ready to collapse on the floor and not get up.

_So this is what girls do on 'girl's night out', _Penn said to me. _I think I've been missing out. _He laughed lightly.

With his voice, always brought me more wonder. How much could he see? He was capable of hearing all our conversations, but unless he was not saying, he was not able to hear too many of my thoughts, unless directed around or to him. This was a good thing, honestly. He didn't need to know my life's thoughts since I was a child. There are just some things a brother shouldn't know.

_Is it lunchtime yet?_

_No,_ I thought glumly back. _I wish._

_Alice__ is hot._

_Stop saying that! She's my friend._

_You thought my friends were hot when we were younger, _he teased.

_Uhm… yeah and for a while I had horrible taste, _I told him.

_Well, you did have SOMEONE good. But you left him. Are you going to fix your mistakes yet?_

"Go away Penn," I grumbled outloud just as Taylor pulled me from the store and onto the bustling street.

We hailed a cab and snapped inside before I could even blink twice. Chicago reminded me of my home city, the most beautiful city in the world to me: New York City.

"Lunchtime!" Alice declared happily. "We're taking you to a small café. The hamburgers are to die for!"

Smugly, I replied, "What? Not going to go to Café Royale?"

Taylor laughed. "Uhm, have you even tried the food there yet? Frank is a terrible cook. Why do you think we get so little business?"

I shrugged. "Whatever. What's the café?"

"Janie's place," she replied with a wide smile. "It's a really cute place. Really comfy."

When we came to a stop about five minutes later, I was relieved. It was hard to make such small talk with Alice and Taylor when I wasn't as close as they were, nor much of a talker.

"You'll just love this place," Alice gushed pulling me towards the door, which said JANIE'S PLACE in block letters. "It's so cute."

We walked in and I felt my heart give a pang of homesickness. The walls were purple and the floor was checkered. It was like looking at a mirror. Immediately, I felt my knees go week.

_What's the matter? _Penn asked.

I shook my head while my friends gushed over the booths, which were apparently remodeled or something. They had zebra print on them, and the walls had signatures all over them. "It's just the most awesome place. They make you sign the wall if you've never been here before. Look we're show you ours!'

Taylor ran over to the opposite of where we stood and in spirally lettering were two messages from the best friends. Her face fell when she saw mine, though. "What's the matter, Charity?"

Sighing, I tried to wipe the heartbroken look off my face. "It just reminds me of a place I used to know," I whispered, Shannon's goofy smile forming in my mind. "So much."

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	5. When the blow hits you

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: Well I'm in a really bad mood tonight, but I did promise an update for this on my profile, so I will give it away. :) And yes, for those who figured it out, "JANIE'S PLACE" was supposed to resemble Shannon's shop. Not exactly, but the walls and the signature thing, haha. Glad people got that. :) That's about it... enjoy the chapter.

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_Flashback to the night after Charity's disappearance – Third Person POV_

_Shannon Moore trudged up the steps of Matt Hardy's house, his head hanging low. His keys still dangled in his hand, though he couldn't feel him. All he could think about was Charity and how she just left him. He gave her everything he could and she left… just left._

_He entered Matt's house without knocking, figuring they wouldn't be too angry. Voices rose from the kitchen – Jeff and Beth's. He lurked in there, wishing he could wash all his sorrows away with whiskey. _

_"What the hell happened to you, man?" Jeff asked, unaware of what had happened with Charity at all._

_"Where is Charity?" Beth demanded, knowing if he was acting like he was, something went wrong. "Did you hurt her?" she continued._

_Shannon__'s green eyes raged red momentarily and he shook his head furiously. "How do you know if I hurt HER?" he spat at Beth, "Maybe she hurt ME!" He threw a chair open, sat, and then slumped down into the seat._

_Quietly, Beth asked, "What happened, Shan?"_

_Shannon looked at Beth, clearly distressed. "She just left… she left. Said somethin' bout how if she leaves, she'll be stronger." He snickered and threw his keys to the ground. "I drive all the fuckin' way to __New York__ and she just leaves! I poured my damn fuckin' heart out to her!"_

_Jeff just shook his head, a word not spoken. "Did she say why?" she prompted._

_"She said somethin' about how she needs to prove she's stronger and walk away from all this. That if she stayed… oh fuck, I don't know!" Such a sad look to him. _

_Beth shook her head then too and pulled out her phone. "I'm going to call her. Maybe something happened. Did you ever think of that?" __Shannon__ remained quiet. Beth dialed the number and waited. It rang once, twice, a third time and finally the voicemail came on. "She's not answering."_

_"Yeah, no shit. I called her four times along the way home. I was hopin' she'd change her mind," he muttered, his hands gripping his head. "I know I screwed up, but I figured if I tried… she wouldn't just… shit, man."_

_Jeff looked up then. "She'll come around. Charity may be stubborn, but she'll realize that her life is with us now. You can't get away from shit like this. She'll call Beth back, Beth will talk some sense into her and everything will be fine. Give it a week." Jeff looked so sure of his words._

_Yet, __Shannon__'s expression just didn't change. He sighed and mumbled something, clearly wishing he'd done something different._

"Are you sure you're okay?" Alice asked me while I toyed with my French fries. She had a confused look on her face, almost one of regret. Maybe she too thought this day had turned into something else, something it shouldn't have. "You look so sad, Charity."

_Why aren't you listening to me? What is going on? What's wrong with this place?_

_Not now, __Penn._

_I'm not happy about being ignored!_

"I'm fine," I assured her and sighed under my breath. Taylor was talking to Janie, the owner just beyond us, leaving the more careful best friend with me. She could see through my lies and I knew it. Taylor was more-so the one to believe anything I said, but not Alice. Alice shouldn't be blonde, Taylor should have to fit the stereotype.

"Okay," she replied, her eyes doubting everything I said. "So," she smiled at me, "Are you going to sign the wall? Janie would love if you did."

I sighed, knowing if I didn't, they would wonder why. "Sure, give me a marker."

_Are you going to tell me? _Penn asked.

_When we get home…_ It sounded so creepy saying 'we' when there really wasn't a we. Always nice to be a split personality, right?

_Fine, _his voice grumbled to me.

"Here ya go, darlin'," Janie said, coming up to me with black marker. "Sign anywhere you like." She smiled warmly at me, her eyes twinkling. While I looked around, I wondered if I ran from there, if anyone would think I was weirder than they already did… yeah, they definitely would.

So, I signed my name and sat back down, shoulders slumped.

"Did you enjoy learning about the city today?" Alice asked, sitting next to me, an excited and wide smile on her beautiful features. "Now you can know what you're doing." And yet, too bad I wouldn't need to know.

"Yep," I lied through my teeth. "I guess it is good to know what you're doing in a city so big." Alice nodded to me, while I started to drown out the conversation between her and Taylor.

_What is the matter with you?_ Penn muttered in my head. _This is not the Char I know. She's not like this. She doesn't run away from everything. Sure, she's afraid a lot, but she wouldn't do this._

_Isn't that what you wanted?_ I challenged him. _You wanted me to be more daring, so there you go. __New city__, new state. Brand new, very daring._

_NOT LIKE THAT! _He yelled back at me. We'd had this argument so many times since he'd appeared in my head. Figment of my imagination or not, it still got to me. _I wanted you to move on, with __SHANNON__. Daring, WITH __SHANNON__. That would be damn well daring enough. Yeah, sure, __Alice__ is hot, but you don't BELONG here, Charity. You're never going to belong here!_

_Go away, __Penn.__ I don't want to talk to you right now. _And from there, I ignored his constant grumbles and looked out into the on going darkness. And that's when I heard it.

_"Don't miss when the WWE comes back to the __Chicago__ area for the first time in four months! Be there at the __United__Center__ when RAW and ECW make their return—"_

The taxi driver turned the dial to something else! I glared at him while hissing, "Put that back."

Both Alice and Taylor, and the driver looked at me like I had two heads… which wasn't far from the truth, it seemed. _"_Please," I added nicely.

The man looked at me with raised eyebrows and switched it back. "Coming to the United Center on September Eighteenth!" And then the advertisement ended.

They were coming here. Matt would be there. Matt would be coming to Chicago! John Morrison would be coming to Chicago… my past was coming back… they would be near here… I felt my face flush and my panic arise.

_How perfect! You can catch up with Matt… oh wait, I guess you'll have to start watching again, since you know, you haven't watched since you got back from living with them._

_GO AWAY PENN! _I hissed to my brain.

He chuckled, but didn't say another word. They were going to be there. In less than a month… I would be a hermit on that day, I decided.

Next to me, Alice looked at me with concern in her eyes. I didn't meet them, afraid if I did, I would spill everything about the beginning of my summer. And that couldn't happen because if it did, then moving here to Chicago would be ruined. It would ruin everything.

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	6. Meeting you at midnight

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: Hiii. It's freezing here and I'm sick of it. And it's putting me in another bad mood... grr! I hate school and the hours it keeps in inside it's torture chamber... but you guys don't care about that... haha. Yeah, well, enjoy the chapter! :)

* * *

_You really should be talking to me. I'm not here to just annoy you._

I laughed. _Well that's all you've done so far, so why should I talk to a VOICE in my head? _

Penn laughed. _True… very true. You know, maybe you should enlist into a good mental home. They'll take good care of you there… FAR from here… maybe by Whispering Pines, North Carolina? _

_Go away Penn, _I mumbled to myself as I stood inside of the elevator of my apartment. His voice had returned here last night and it seemed to just get louder and louder each day. Something told me I wasn't losing my mind completely, that Penn's voice, though maybe not real, was trying to honestly help me somehow.

Just the fact that my personal thoughts were being invaded daily was the annoying part.

I sighed as I exited the elevator, walking down the carpeted hallway. Around me, there was silence. It annoyed me that my neighbors were always so quiet, or never home. My landlord told me that was one of the perks of my apartment that my neighbor was away on his job a lot so there wouldn't be too much noise. I took it immediately, obviously.

"I can't believe what happened today," I grumbled, my thoughts clogged with Penn's voice, the images of Janie's Place, and of course, the _greatest _announcement of all… WWE was coming to Chicago… _Matt _was coming to Chicago. _Definitely going to be a hermit that day, _I added in my head.

_Or, you could talk to him, you know. Matt's not going to hate you, Char. You've stuck yourself too far into all their lives for them to just forget you. They'll be angry, sure, but they won't hate you._

_Do you ever go away? _I asked sweetly.

_Yeah, when you finally listen to me._

_Lovely, because that's not going to happen. This is my life now._

Just because it was a life I hated didn't mean I could complain. A lot of people hate what they're given. They still go along with it, living it. So, what is the difference?

_"_It's too quiet here sometimes," I murmured, opening my door and slipping inside. Flipping the light on, brightness filled the small apartment, living me to sigh and kick off my shoes. Today didn't give me any 'fun' at all. It brought back terrible memories and things I didn't want to think about.

Janie's place was too much déjà vu for my liking. I'd only been in Shannon's shop once, to get my tattoo – which I never got filled – and the similarities between the two businesses were devastating. Shannon's walls were partly purple and of course, if you went into the building, you were expected to sign the wall too.

Was it supposed to be funny? Was that fate trying to toy with me? Laugh at me, maybe to just make everything I was feeling worse? I didn't know and it annoyed me. Penn sighed inside of my head, however I ignored him.

_

* * *

_

_Thud. _

_What the hell was that? _I thought, sitting up in my bed, setting down a book I was reading. Turning around, I looked down onto the street, seeing nothing but the occasional car.

_Thud. _

"OW!" A voice moaned.

"Is someone hurt?" I wondered outloud, my eyes widening. Was something getting attacked?

_You have such an imagination… wouldn't they be screaming?_

_Well, do you consider that normal?_

_No, but it doesn't sound as if someone was getting attacked, Char. _He laughed inside my head. _Go look or something… maybe someone dropped something._

"Shh, you're going to wake up my neighbors," a voice called out, much too loud for a whisper. Even three rooms over, it was clear as day, making me believe the walls were paper thin.

"Okay, yeah, going to check that out," I agreed, stepping out of my bed and slipping on my flats.

Slowly, I made my way to the door, peeking out of the peephole, but seeing nothing but hallway from my view. _Weird._ Opening the door, I looked outside and saw someone with their back to me, pulling along a person with long, brown hair. The person too had long hair and tattooed sleeves.

"John, you're a fucking moron," the person grumbled, shaking their head. "How the fuck do you get kicked out of your hotel for being drunk? Only _you _could do that."

The drunken person replied, slurring, "I didn't get kicked out… they don't think I'm…"

My heart nearly fell into my stomach when I saw who the two people were though and suddenly, the reason my neighbor was never home made so much more sense. He spotted me first, looking apologetic for the noise and went to open his mouth, but I widened my eyes and slammed the door shut.

_"Holy. Fucking. Shit,_" I spat out, leaning against the door, my voice like a child's.

Inside my head, Penn laughed like a hyena. _Well this is sure going to be interesting._

Seconds later, I heard a door slam and more grumbling from the other side of the wall. His voice scolded the drunken mess with him, saying something about "not having enough room for someone to stay with him". My heart leaped around in my chest, unsure what to do.

Did he see me? Or was he too drunk to even remember his own name? I prayed so, terrified of being discovered. He surely would tell Matt. And Matt would tell Shannon. NO!

_Maybe you should talk to him, Char. He's not a bad guy._

_He's drunk and I'm not talking to him._

_But P—_

_Him either. I don't even know him._

Penn sighed inside my head while I felt the room swirl around me. Would he go looking for me tomorrow? If he didn't remember me from tonight though, he wouldn't I hoped. And by the looks of it 'John Morrison' was completely smashed.

_Knock, knock._

"Oh, shit!" I whined, my hand slipping over my mouth so the person on the other side of the door didn't hear me gasp. _What am I going to do?_ I pleaded with myself.

_Maybe answer the door? _Penn suggested.

_Go away, Penn._ As much as I missed my brother – and I did dearly, more than I would ever, ever let on with him inside my head – the brother that was given back to me was quickly getting on my nerves. Yet, something told me if his voice would disappear, I would be really upset, of course I would. Though an odd connection to my dead brother, it was the only connection I had left.

_You need a better phrase, Char. It's getting old fast. Now, ANSWER THE DOOR._

"No!" I hissed outloud, shaking my head.

_He knows you're inside, Char. You can't just ignore him._

"Watch me!"

_Knock, knock._

"Shit!" I whined again, leaning against the wall. "I'm going to have to answer, aren't I?"

_Mhm._

"Great."

Taking a deep breath, I tried to not let the possibilities in my mind run wild and then, I walked over to the door and opened it. He looked exactly like he did on TV. Only more beautiful, something I did not want to admit. His eyes too had a gleam to them, a bit of a boyish charm hidden there too. His lip ring made him look more rebellious, but you couldn't really hook on that, his smile made you want to say anything but something like that.

"Hi," he started, the smile widening. "I just wanted to apologize for the noise. It's probably a surprise, since I'm never here…"

My eyes widened at the man in front of me. Never in my wildest dreams, would I imagine him there. He looked at me with a slightly anxious expression, probably waiting for my answer. "Oh, it's okay," I replied quickly, eager to get him away. "It's completely fine."

His brow furrowed. "You look really familiar."

I laughed nervously. "Really? I just moved here… that's impossible." Would he believe me? I could only hope.

He nodded, though the studious expression didn't change. "Oh… well, let me introduce myself, then, I guess. I'm Phil Brooks."

Looking down at the ground, I cursed myself for even answering the door and mumbled, "I know."

This made his eyes, those dark, mysterious eyes widen a bit. "Oh, you do?" He chuckled nervously, tugging on his ponytail, holding back his slick black hair. "Maybe I should have introduced myself as CM Punk then…?"

I smiled softly. "Yeah, maybe."

He laughed at me. "Yeah, I prefer Punk anyway… Phil is such a shitty name…"

Uncomfortably, I shuffled my feet. "Yeah… well, I better get to bed. It's late_…" How high school that sounded_, I couldn't help but think and frowned.

He smiled again, a dork-like charm to him. "Oh… okay, goodnight then."

I nodded once and quickly closed the door. "Holy. Shit." Inside my head, Penn howled with laughter.

**Read and review and update I shall. :3**


	7. There is never a clean break

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: Heyy! So, this will probably be the only update until about Thursday or Friday. I've got an extremely busy week in front of me. Just to let y'all know. Thank you all so much for the reviews and such, it means the world. Hoping to update as soon as I can, but remember what I just said. :) Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

"Do you think he'll tell John about me in the morning?" I asked Penn while I lied awake in my bed a couple hours later, crazy ideas of what could possibly be happening next door. Was CM Punk trying to figure out why I looked so familiar to him? Would my face appear in John's mind when he sobered up? Did John even remember me at all?

_Of course he remembers you, Char! You're not easily forgettable, _Penn told me inside my head. (I was never going to get used to that term). _But he was pretty smashed before. I'm surprised he could even remember his own name, so no worries._

"Are you sure?" I whined, throwing the covers back and groaning. "I should have Alaska, not Chicago!"

Penn chuckled. _Like you would have lasted there, sis. You hate the cold._

"Shut up," I grumbled. "Ugh, I have work in less than three hours." I slumped back down into my bed and covered my face with my pillow. Would my screams be muffled enough if I screamed into my pillow? Or should I just stomp around and act like a five-year-old? "UGH."

_Go to bed._

_"_Find a new head and I will!" I hissed. Another chuckle rang through my head when I looked at the clock. Almost five in the morning and my shift started at eight. I'd have to be up in two hours, be at the store in just about three. How great. I'd be exhausted and look a mess.

* * *

"Well, hello to you too, Sunshine!" Alice chirped to me when I slipped into the diner a couple hours later. "You look like you've had a wild night." Her wink made my stomach lurk.

"Oh yes, I was partying with Trump all night long," I growled back, throwing my apron on. No one was even in the diner yet, except for Alice (who didn't even work there) and Taylor, who I could hear talking on the phone in the back. Alice watched me as I started at my repulsive reflection in the mirror.

"No, seriously… what the hell happened to _you_?" she asked, eyes widening.

I sighed. "I didn't sleep well."

"Yeah, I'll say. Details, girl."

Scowling, I shook my head. "It's none of your business." I knew that being so mean to her was unnecessary but my brain wasn't functioning on much, and Café Royale was far from where I wanted to be. It's sticky, no-matter-how-much-you-cleaned- them tiles made my feet lurk a bit and the burnt smell of coffee made me nauseous.

No wonder no one came into the place. It was a dump. Old paint job, cracked and sticky tiles. Shitty food. Expected that anyone with taste wouldn't come in here.

Of course, you would expect that people like pro-wrestlers, especially one that _lived _inside the city would eat better than here too, but not Phil Brooks and John Morrison. They were heading start for the entrance, my face fully visible to the now sobered John.

"Shit!" I moaned, shoving past Alice whose eyes were locked in a puppy-dog-like gaze at John. "Look out!"

She didn't even question me, only moved, mesmerized by John's beauty. Couldn't blame the girl… John Hennigan was a beautiful man. As well was CM Punk. But Phil Brooks looked like trash next to Morrison.

"Hello," came the velvety voice of John's as I scurried my way into the back "office" which could really be considered a roach motel. Next to me, Taylor scowled, annoyed by my sudden intrusion on her private conversation. I sent her a pleading look back and moved behind her. She sighed and went on talking about… make-up. Yep, so very private. "Can we get some service?"

Giggle. "Oh-" giggle "I" giggle. "Don't work" giggle. "Here. You'll have to ask someone else." A string of giggles. Oh how I would like to punch Alice for her stupidity. But what would involve going out there which was not happening. "HEY, TAYLOR… GET YOUR SORRY ASS OUT HERE!"

I cringed at her choice of words. But Taylor only replied, "I'm busy. Go Charity!"

I shook my head and gave her another desperate look. She only rolled her eyes and shoved me from the room and into the main diner. By the time I made it into view, I looked like a moron. Trying to look together, I smiled wearily. CM Punk recognized me right away, I knew. John didn't seem to. I instantly relaxed.

As I turned to grab a pad, Alice gave me a wide and suggestive smile, whispering, "go get'em girl!" into my ear as I passed. She squeezed my shoulder and I suddenly felt embarrassed for the both of us. How could Taylor and Alice make me do this? Did they not know that I had a past with one of those men, and had met the other one last night? No, of course not.

"Oh, hey!" Phil said with a smile as I came up and seated them. "Didn't know you worked here. How's it going… oh, I don't think I ever learned your name?" I could only feel Alice's ears perk at his words. She was already trying to think of ways to set us up. God, I wanted to kill her. He looked to my chest for a name tag and then smiled at me.

John didn't say a word, but studied some marking on the wall. He definitely had a major hang-over and didn't seem to want to be there. "Charity," I whispered, my voice so far from my own. I hoped that the name wouldn't remind John of who I was. So far, it seemed well, he didn't seem to recognize me at all.

"Oh," Phil said with a nod. "Charity. Pretty. So, what's good here?"

I laughed. "From Chicago and don't know what's good here?" My tone was so light, even I was surprised by it.

Phil's face turned into a crinkled laugh, one which made his entire face brighten. God, it made my heart go wild. It was such a rare sight for 'CM Punk' to do that and I had thoughts of being a fangirl all over. "This diner – no offense – is one of the shittiest around. It's just too early to go anywhere else… and we have to go train early," he explained.

"Oh," I said with a nod. "Well, can I start you with some coffee, then?"

"Sure," he replied easily. "John?"

"Hm?" John murmured from behind those reckless looking sunglasses. "What?"

"Coffee?" I squeaked out.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Black with sugar, please."

"Decaf?" I asked them both.

"Nah."

"Ha, no."

"Alright," I said with a slight and worrisome smile. "That'll be right up. There isn't much to choose from… but pick something out to eat." I grinned at Phil and avoided looking at John. Anything could spark at memory.

Over the next half hour, I served the two WWE heartthrobs while receiving jabs from both Taylor and Alice over Phil's seemingly eager personality told me. If only they knew about them, my past or anything of those sorts, and it would change everything. And of course, if Alice and Taylor knew they were famous, they'd have a ball. Both of the guys would never go out in public ever again.

"Oh my God, he is like… damn," Alice swooned – over John of course. "Is he taken, I wonder?"

"Single," I murmured.

"What?" Taylor asked, immediately making me heart stop. If they heard me, both of them would wonder how I knew that.

"Nothing. He just looks like he's single. Wouldn't a girl be hanging all over him if he wasn't?" I asked casually.

Alice nodded, understanding my "logic". "Oh yeah. I'd never let him out of my site."

Rolling my eyes, I left them and brought over the bill. Not only was our food disgusting, but it was over priced too. "Here you go," I managed to muster out, cheerfully as I could without fearing my fears. John still seemed to act normally as a person could with a hang-over, so I wasn't too afraid. "Let me know when you're ready."

"Damn…" Phil grumbled and I heard John whistle too. The bill was almost forty dollars, but that's what 'Café Royale' charged. "For that shitty food…?" I heard Phil mutter. Giggling, I watched them grumble over the price some more, a but more comfortable.

* * *

"I hate that diner!" I said with a loud protest as I came into my apartment, dropping my bag on the night table to my left and collapsing on the couch. It was nearly five and I was exhausted. "Where are you Penn? You've been really quiet today…"

_Just enjoying your embarrassment._

"Gee, thanks. I guess I'll go fix myself dinner then," I mumbled, sitting up. But before I could even get into the kitchen, still happy over not being recognized by John, there was a knock on the door.

I sighed and headed over, not bothering to look in the peephole. "Can—"

"Did you think I would forget you?" the person challenged immediately, coming inside before I could even close the door. "Do you know the hell you've left behind? Do you know that Shannon lost his job because of you?" I bit my lip and fell to the couch as the person cornered me. "Do you?" I didn't answer. "Really, tell me, Charity. You're not easily forgettable, did you really think I would forget you that easily?" the person growled, expecting me to answer.

**Read and review and update I shall. :3**


	8. It all falls down

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: Got some free time, decided to write up a (short) chapter. You'll find out who it was from last chapter here. Oh, and I know that Shannon was released for budget cuts, but the story purposes it will be otherwise, which will be told in time. Kapeesh? :) Yep... so enjoy the chapter! :)

* * *

My upper lip quivered while he stood above me, eyes raging. No longer were his eyes hidden by sunglasses and the intensity that radiated from them was intense. I looked away. Shannon had lost his job over me? How was that even possible? Then again, I hadn't watched wrestling since I left…

"Are you going to answer me?" the person demanded.

I sighed. "I don't know what to say," I admitted.

John Hennigan snorted loudly. "Don't know what to _say_? How about sorry for everything you've put those guys through? Even Jeff is acting different… Jeff!" John looked down at me, eyes squinted. "You don't have anything to say for yourself?"

I shook my head.

He sat down next to me and grabbed my wrist hard enough it hurt. I tried to jerk away, but he pulled me back. The expression on his handsome face scared me. "You listen to me, Charity. I don't know how damn well diluted you fucking are, but if you thought that you'd be able to hide from everyone for this fucking long… you're mistaken. And today… do you think you're forgettable?"

I bit my lip and looked away.

"Look. At. Me. And. Answer. Me," John spit out.

"Yes, I did. I figured no one would miss me! I'm nothing damn well special!" I hissed back, tears coming down my cheeks. His grip softened a little at my words. "This is my life now."

John laughed without humor. "You're fucking sick. Shannon still hasn't forgiven himself for this, you stupid bitch." The words stung at me and I shoved him away from me.

"Do not call me a bitch," I stated through gritted teeth.

John chuckled. "And what are you going to do about it? Your best trick is running away." Another low blow. I cringed and scowled at him, but didn't say a word. "See? Exactly. You owe every single one of them an apology. And Phil… wait until I tell him. I can't believe you've had him around your finger so long, living next door!"

My body jerked back around to face him, angered. "I just met him last night! He's never here, asshole! Like I'm supposed to know that he lives next door to me. "Leave him out of this."

"Sure, sure," John said easily. "No one likes to be played, Charity."

"Look, I've screwed up. Just go and let me live in my own torture now, alright? You've pleaded your case, haven't you?" I stood up and marched to the door, throwing it open. "Go!"

Would he go? I wasn't sure, but the room was spinning and I couldn't process anything quick enough. I was replying off of adrenaline and the words Penn was shouting inside of my head. So, Phil didn't know about anything… yet. Had John called Matt or Shannon? I couldn't bare think of it.

"I'm not leaving," John whispered, coming up to me and closing the door. He pulled out an expensive looking phone and shoved it to me. "Not until you fix this mess you've put yourself in."

"No."

"No?" John asked. He must have thought I'd go along with it. Stupid. "You fucking leave like this and you're not going—"

"Can you _please_ stop telling me of my mistakes? I know what I've done, asshole. And I'm okay with that. And as far as I'm concerned, it's none of your business, so get the hell out."

John smirked. "I'll just have to call them myself, then. Let them know where you're living, how does that sound?"

"John, please," I begged. "You don't understand."

"No, I don't. You're right. I don't understand how you're able to throw you're entire life away like that. To those annoying ass girls and to whole new city while the people you love are miles and miles away. No one normal does that."

"I'M NOT NORMAL!" I screamed back. "Don't you understand that? I just want to live in peace, without anyone I once knew. This is a new place for me, I'm starting over. I've left everything in my past life behind. I don't want _any _of it back. NOTHING. I just want to move on and with constant reminders of everything, it surely isn't helping!"

The look on John's face shocked me, but he didn't seem to let it phrase him. "I'm leaving," he said curtly. I turned to ask him if he was going to call, but he answered for me. "I won't tell them anything, but you're making a big mistake, Charity. Wait until this all goes crashing down on you then you'll be sorry."

"I won't," I sneered.

"Sure," John said easily, opening the door. "It all falls down eventually. You'll be wishing you took advantage of today."

"I won't," I repeated. "Goodbye, John."

He sighed, looking at me. "Goodbye, Charity."

* * *

_You're making a big mistake, Charity._

_You're going to regret this, _Penn added. _Someday._

_Are you listening to me? Hello? Charity, you can't ignore the voice in your head… haha? Did you get it…? Charity, listen to me!_

"I'm not even going to bother to say go away, because you won't," I mumbled, sitting on my couch, in a broken body of my own. It had only been a half hour since John had left. And he and Phil had left minutes after that. The entire floor of the apartment building was dead quiet. And silence is deafening.

_You're being difficult._

"I'm being rational," I objected.

_Ha, lie._

"I'm not listening to you," I grumbled and shoved my face into the fabric. "I'm not listening to anyone."

**Read and review and update I shall. :3**


	9. All thatIask is that u don't let me down

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: Eww, I is sick. And highly annoyed by the smackdown spoiler I read this week about Victoria. I won't spoil it for anyone, but I am NOT happy. Anyway, yeah, I have a sinus infection, so I'm home sick (and happily so). And I wrote a chapter, obviously. So enjoy it. ^__^

* * *

Over the next couple of days, I managed to stay out of the limelight. I went to work and got tortured by Bonnie and Clyde over CM Punk and then came home to sleep off another long day. It seemed silly that working for five hours made me so tired, but I guess the thoughts that came with working is what really did the trick. Or should I say, John's thoughts from our conversation are what exhausted me.

It was like I had another voice in my head suddenly, John's velvet-smooth voice caressing the inside of my mind. No, no, caress is too nice of a word to describe his angry ones. They mobbed my mind over and over again.

_I don't understand how you're able to throw you're entire life away like that._

I sighed as I heated up some soup.

_Those annoying ass girls and to whole __new city__ while the people you love are miles and miles away. No one normal does that._

"I'm not normal," I whispered outloud. "I've never been normal."

Would I ever be normal? What was normal? There really couldn't be such thing. But if there was, I would be the farthest thing from it. My mind didn't work like John's did. My mind didn't work like Matt's, Jeff's, Shannon's, or Beth's did. My mind was on a completely didn't spool of thread. It twisted into a completely different shirt.

Normal was something I'd never be.

* * *

"In the criminal justice system, sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous. In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit. These are their stories." Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. On the fifth episode of the night, actually. Apparently, it's a marathon.

I grew up as a teenager on the show. My mom would watch with my brother and we'd all try to figure out the crime before it was over. Penn usually got it right. He loved to solve a mystery and was usually right on top of the case at hand. And he had a thing for Mariska Hargitay too, but that's not important.

_Mm, _Penn thought. And speak of the devil and you shall receive.

"I've seen this episode," I complained like a child. "And I know how it ends." It didn't seem to phase anything as the opening scene came on.

_Knock, knock._

Have you ever just felt your entire body freeze or tense up to the point where you can't move? At all, like, you're frozen like a deer in front of headlights? You eyes widen and you heart accelerates beyond things possible? Yeah, that was what happened to me.

It had been four days… he had to be gone. They weren't even in the area. Who was at my door? I widened my eyes just a bit more as another knock surfaced.

_Are you going to answer that? _Penn asked me.

"Not a chance in hell," I murmured back. "I think its John."

Penn laughed._ It can't be John, Char. He has a life you know, unlike you._

I scowled at his harsh words and make a 'humph' noise. "I have a life," I shot back. My eyes wandered to the TV screen and to the kitchen where a bunch of empty soup cans lay.

_I think the cans in the kitchen had more of a life,_ Penn taunted back. _Just answer the door. It's not John._

I sighed, knowing I was stuck anyway. The TV was on pretty high and of course: paper thin walls were always around.

Slowly, I stood up and pondered who it could be then. If it wasn't John, who was it? Was it CM Punk? My landlord? Millions of ideas flashed through my head as I made it to the door. Shannon, Matt, Jeff, or Beth? I prayed otherwise.

"Open the damn door, you whore!" I heard Alice yell then and relief flooded through my body. Never before being called a whore sounded so welcoming. I smiled and threw it open. Alice stormed in, Taylor coming in after, both in mini-skirts and tank tops. It was hot late August day here. "About time."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes?"

Taylor smiled. "We don't get a hello?"

"Hello nuisances."

Alice giggled. "You're so kind." She looked me up and down then and I immediately felt underdressed. Her tank top fitted her well and it was sparkly, something that would catch everyone's eye. It didn't startle me though, or remind me of a clubbing outfit, so I relaxed.

"What?" I asked though, noticing them both looking at my pajama pants and ratty tank top.

In unison they replied, "Get dressed. We're taking you out for dinner."

"Dinner?" My disbelief was heavily coated inside of my tone and I knew my face showed my weary antics. Dinner? What did they mean by dinner? For anyone else, I'd assume, "dinner" of course, but with those two, "dinner" could mean so much more than just a meal around six o'clock at night.

"Yes, silly. You know, where you eat and then pay a bill?" Taylor teased, pulling me towards my small bedroom. "It's nothing fancy. Just this new café downtown that just opened. It's a Thai place and Alice has been dying to try it. Since you're never out, we figured we'd drag you along."

I liked Thai food. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, I decided while I sat on my bed. But that was before I noticed two over-eager girls tearing my closet apart with their claws. "My God, you dress like my grandmother!" Alice complained.

I cringed. Did I? I had never noticed. _Alice__ is right, _Penn said with a laugh. _Tell her she's right. And tell her that she's pretty._

_I'm not saying anything! _I growled back.

Finally, Alice threw down a pair of skinny jeans I had forgotten I had with a babydoll top that seemed way too high school for me to wear anymore. But hey, if it meant that they'd stop making my room look like a hellhole, I was all for it.

"Get dressed?" I asked with a weary smile.

"You got it, dude," Alice screeched back, throwing the clothes at me. "You have ten minutes. Hurry the hell up!"

Before I could even react, they threw the door shut and left me alone. _Maybe I should try to protest, _I thought, but quickly shook the thought from my head. When those two friends got on something, they didn't let it go. I was stuck going out with the two loudest girls in the city.

"Are you done yet?" Alice whined from the other side of the door. I sighed and slipped on the clothes, unable to even concentrate with their excited banter on the other side of the wall.

"Ready," I yelled back. Less than three seconds later, my door whooshed open and they stormed back it, studying me.

I stood forward, watching their intense eyes as they circled around me like I was prey. Taylor was murmuring things I couldn't hear, but somehow Alice had and she was nodding.

"What?" I prompted.

"SIT!" Taylor barked and shoved me down, a wild smile on her face. "It's time to turn you into a diva."

Diva? I cringed as Alice seemed to pull a make-up bag from out of nowhere and sat down next to me on the floor. Concealer, mascara, foundation, liners, blush, lip gloss and stick and practically anything else you could find in Macy's was out before me.

They worked fast, plucking and pulling and pampering me. It hurt a lot of it, since I wasn't used to this kind of wear and tear. I didn't wear too much make-up, making a bit of mascara and lip gloss and half of what they had out didn't even look familiar. At least I knew they knew what they were doing. Especially Taylor, who always looked amazing.

"Is this really necessary?" I complained while Alice pulled at one of my cheeks. Beside her, Taylor did something to one of my eyes. Like an animal at the zoo, I felt like, getting watched from annoying and snotty-nosed children.

"Yes," they answered in unison again with vicious grins.

So I shut my mouth and let them work away.

* * *

By the time they were finished, I didn't even feel like myself. My face felt ten times heavier, covered in – or caked on – make-up enough for an army. Any person that liked to spend that much time on make-up was crazy in my opinion. It all seemed too painful.

"Done," Alice breathed, pulling me up and dragging me towards the bathroom. While walking, Taylor grabbed a brush off the vanity and started to pull my hair from my face and tug it into different pieces. At the mirror, I saw she had done some type of flow-y up-do to me. But, the girl in the mirror didn't look like me. She looked like one of those girls in high school that tried too hard.

But, I did look pretty. Alice and Taylor did know how to apply make-up in ways I could never do and instantly, I felt my self-esteem boost a little. "Wow," I murmured. "All of that in ten minutes?"

Taylor nodded eagerly. "You look great, hun."

"Thanks," I grumbled back. "So, dinner time?"

They both nodded eagerly again and ran from the room, leaving me to follow after, a little tired from all their energy. "Let's go!" Alice screamed. "Time is money and we aren't rich!"

I sighed and continued my sloth-like pace down the hallway which never seemed to end. By the time I was at the door, it seemed to be ions later though still light out. One of them –couldn't even be sure which one – pulled me after I grabbed my back in a quick retreat and slammed the door after me.

We hurried down the apartment hallway, coming towards the elevators. And that's when I saw him.

"Charity," he breathed at me, a smile forming on his face. Behind me, the girls retreated toward the all and held back giddy giggles. God, they could be so immature.

"CM… Ph… Pu…?" I trailed off, unsure what to call him.

"Punk is fine," he reminded me with a sparkly smile.

I nodded, a little relieved. Phil was such a boring name anyway. "Hi Punk," I said uneasily. This sent Alice and Taylor into more giggles behind me. Punk eyed them with curiosity, but kept his eyes on me.

"So, where are you headin'?" he asked.

"Out to dinner," I stated glumly. Even with the giggle girls behind me, it felt like we were alone.

He laughed at my tone; his laugh was so warming, it made me smile too. "Sounds like you're just thrilled about that."

I nodded while one of them behind me tapped their foot. I sighed. "I need to go," I whispered.

Punk nodded. "Alright. Well… I'm sure I'll still be up when you get back. Why don't you come over after?" Giggle girls erupted behind me. I rolled my eyes a bit. Even Penn chuckled inside of my head.

"Um… I… sure," I stammered with a weak smile. If I said no, both Penn and giggle girls would kill me.

"Great," he stated back. "See ya later, Charity." He waved once and then bobbed his way toward the apartment of his. It was only seconds later and giggles further to when I realized what I had just agreed to.

* * *

**Read and review and update I shall. :3**


	10. Runaway questions

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: Here is an update! Thanks so much for all the reviews and such! :)

* * *

"Oh my God, he totally likes you!"

"He has such a cute smile! Alice, did you see the way he smiled at her? There was a twinkle in his eyes!"

"I know, oh my God, I'm so jealous, Charity! He's a total... _babe_," Alice stated with a sigh, falling against her seat in the Thai café with a dreamy smile. "Totally gorgeous."

They'd been going on and on about his beauty, their jealousy and anything else they could muster up about the scene CM Punk and I had had in the hallway. Sure, if I wasn't totally freaking about it, maybe even I'd be excited, but I couldn't be. Why did CM Punk want to see me? Surely, I wasn't _anything_ special by any means. Plain Jane could be my definition, the real me.

"Charity?" Taylor asked. "So what's your game plan?"

"My game plan?" What game plan? I was just trying to remember how to breathe. And talk. You know, most of the things you learn at a young age.

Alice and Taylor exchanged a look and sighed. "You've got a lot to learn, girl." A lot to learn? Oh please don't tell me they were going to try to teach me… "This is a date, Charity."

Even I had to scoff. "Date? I think not. I barely know the guy. He's a…" It took me a few seconds to realize what I almost said. All hell would break loose if they knew he was famous. Maybe that was why I was so nervous… why did CM Punk want to see me?

Stop, wait. I froze in my seat and looked at Alice and Taylor. "He said my name," I whispered, mainly to myself.

Taylor chuckled, patting Alice on the arm. "She's so slow in the love department… yes, Charity, he said your name." They shared a giggle, thinking of how 'silly' I was.

How did I not realize that? Quickly, I thought back to when I first met Punk. He was with John, John of course drunk. He apologized for the noise and… I never introduced myself. How did CM Punk know my name?! John must have told him. John had to of told him. I was screwed… Matt, Jeff… Beth, maybe even Shannon had to be on their way to find me.

Punk was going to warn me… maybe he understood… he was a longtime loner-type. Panic ripped through me once more as I thought about this. How could I not realize that? Of course the only reason he could know my name… I was so screwed.

"Charity? You look like you've seen a ghost," Taylor stated firmly.

"Or she's picturing her night with him," Alice squealed. The girls screamed momentarily and smiled warmly at one another. They had no idea of the true problem; they wouldn't even understand the problem.

My panic on the way to the café suddenly made sense to me. I'd panicked the entire way there and I couldn't rack a single reason to why Punk wanted to hang out. Surely, we weren't friends of any sorts. Neighbors didn't go to each others houses to hang out where I was from. Your neighbor was your worse enemy, the person you have a screaming match with at least once a year.

Of course… why had I not thought of it? Knowing Punk or John for that matter was dangerous and interacting with them at all was bound to end in disaster. Knowing that, I shouldn't have even let him in that night. It was only a matter of time until one of the Core showed up at my doorstep… only I figured it wouldn't have been _this_ soon.

"Charity, seriously, you're scaring us," Alice whispered. "Is everything okay? Is the food nasty?"

"I thought it was good…"

"Me too, which is weird to why she's like… disgusted by it."

"It's not the food!" I wailed. My voice came out shrill. "Listen, I need to go. Right now." Before they could stop me, I thrust some bills down onto the table to cover my tab and rushed from the door and into the summer heat.

Only being about six, it was still light out. I was suddenly ever-so glad that the girls had showed me around the city, glad to be able to find my way home. Like a lost little puppy. A lost little puppy that was in a world's amount of trouble. A lost little puppy that was going to be screwed in the matter of a couple hours. This lost little puppy had to the get the hell out of Chicago!

The evening bustle was hard to get by and it honestly reminded me of my own favorite city, the big NYC. And by the time I had made it to my apartment building, I must have looked like a homeless person who was plain out of breath. But even that didn't stop me. I didn't know how long I had until someone would be there to find me… I had to hurry.

Up the stairs and to the elevator I ran, hoping to get to my floor in a new record. Only, much to my dismay and because I wasn't looking, I crashed to the floor as soon as the elevator opened to my floor.

"Whoa, Charity, are you alright?" I cringed and closed my eyes tighter. It was just my luck to run into him while trying to _escape_ him.

When I opened my eyes, he had his hand out to help me up. My eyes narrowed and I glared up at his scruffy figure. In jeans and a skull t-shirt, his expression turned weary.

"Did you hit your head?" he asked in a more apprehensive tone.

"No."

"Oh," Punk said in a more relaxed tone. "That's good."

Without his help, I stood up and dusted off my behind. As his mouth opened to say something else, I growled, "How did you know my name?"

* * *

**Read and review and update I shall. :3**


	11. It just feels right

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: Insomnia strikes again! Woo, but at least y'all get an update again. Keep up the reviews, y'all should know by now that I LOVE to read them. :) Yep... that's about it. I'm gonna try to get SOME sleep before I have to be up for school... grrr. Anyway, enjoy! :)

* * *

Punk laughed lightly. "Your name tag… at the café. I can read you know." He took a deep breath and then said in a really deep and caveman like voice, "Big wrassler can read."

Wrinkling my nose, a bit calmer after hearing that, I said, "That wasn't funny."

Punk shrugged, coming closer to my protective pose. "I'm not so great with humor. Sue me."

"Surely will. You made me fall on the damn floor." I grinned at him without even meaning to. _Should I believe him?_ I asked myself. Did Punk really read my nametag? Or were Matt and Jeff waiting to haul me away? Punk seemed like a pretty trustworthy guy though, so I relaxed, if only a little.

"Sorry, I wasn't the one watching my step," he grumbled. "You looked like you had just saw a damn ghost or something."

"Heard a ghost," I muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing," I chided back.

Punk held up his hands and I had a hard time looking at them without the tape and straightedge signs. "Sorry, sorry." We began to walk towards our respective apartments, a slightly uneasy silence masking the air. "So are you going to come over?"

How the hell had I possibly forgotten that? My eyes widened at the reminder. "C-come over?" I stammered.

Punk stared at me for what seemed like forever. "Yeah, I invited you before your psycho friends pulled you away." I wanted to giggle at the 'psycho friends' comment, but it didn't really seem appropriate.

"Oh… right." Damn, I really need to learn how to talk to people. "I guess."

His face fell. "Well, if you don't want to…"

God, I really need to learn how to talk to people! "Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that. God, I'm stupid. I… sure, I mean, I had forgot… between trying to come back here and…" I talked _too_ much. Before I could make myself look anymore stupid, I stated (through gritted teeth), "I'll be over in about fifteen minutes." Just one look at my overly dressed outfit told him why.

He laughed nervously and then walked into his apartment.

_When did you ever get so awkward? _Penn said with a laugh.

"Can it," I growled, slamming my own door shut. I had fifteen minutes to remember why I even said yes and to make myself look less crazy than I had done in five. "Just great."

* * *

As quickly as I could, I threw on some jeans and a decent t-shirt. My hair had to look wild from my even wilder walk home, so I didn't even attempt to fix that. Threw it into a ponytail and went on for make-up. Which happened to look fine, so I left the bathroom feeling a bit better. I must have looked like Ursula from The Little Mermaid before.

"I guess it's time," I muttered, attempting to sound optimistic meanwhile my heart hammered inside of my ribcage, telling me that I was going to pass out as soon as I entered Punk's apartment. How the hell did wrestlers seem to get into my life like that? Why did Punk want me in his life?

I was convinced I was nothing special.

_Good luck…_

"What, no snarky remark?" I snapped, though a bit playfully as well.

_Eh, whatever._

"Keep your mouth… brain… whatever shut in the apartment." I rolled my eyes at my own insanity and sighed. "Here goes nothing."

Opening the door to my apartment and stepping out into the hallway was the simple part. Knocking on Punk's and remembering on how to breathe was not easy. Which is pretty sad if you think about it.

And of course, like the dork he acted like, Punk answered as soon as my hand had left the metal. "Took you long enough," he muttered playfully, welcoming me inside. I stuttered over a reply to his comment while trying to see how CM Punk lived. Definitely was a bachelor pad… nothing looked like a female lived there. There was take out bags in the garbage and the furnishings were far from beautiful. Not that there was much of any furniture in what was the livingroom anyway. A lousy looking couch, a coffee table and a TV made it up. The walls were a bleak green color, reminding me of puke.

"Don't even say it," he groaned, looking at my far from a poker face expression. "I know my apartment sucks." He shrugged. "I'm not in it much, so it doesn't really matter." I turned to look at the kitchen, not bothering to answer him. There wasn't much there other than a stove, fridge, and a microwave. One broken looking table sat in the corner, two chairs around it. "Maria tried to fix it up when she lived here with me, but… you can't teach an old dog new tricks, you know?"

It wasn't dirty or old looking, though. It just looked… _bare_. If I would have walked in alone, I would have thought someone just planted anything they didn't want and left it there.

"Are you going to answer me?"

"Huh?"

Punk rolled his eyes. "I said my apartment sucked, so you can say it does too… don't worry, it won't bother me."

I shook my head. "It doesn't suck."

"Sure, sure," he muttered back.

Coming closer to him. "It doesn't suck," I stated again. "It's just… empty."

He nodded. "I know. I'm not much of an interior designer." He gave me a puppy dog like grin. "Like I said, Maria tried to make me one, but it wasn't happening. I can barely match my own clothes, let alone make myself a contemporary-looking apartment." He seemed apologetic.

"Don't worry about it. It doesn't bother me any," I told him truthfully. To be honest, I was glad I wasn't met with any of the Core when I walked in. A rat could have jumped onto the table and did the worm and I wouldn't have minded.

… Much.

He grinned. "Well thank you."

"Sure," I said with a shrug. "No problem."

"So… are you hungry?" I stared at him blankly. "Oh, right! You just had dinner. I'm a fucking moron, ignore me."

For some reason, it really clicked with me then that I was standing next to CM Punk, in his apartment. How the hell did I get into something like that? My eyes widened.

"What's the matter?" he asked suddenly, seeing my expression.

"Nothing… it's nothing."

He didn't seem convinced. "You sure?"

"Phi—Punk, it's nothing." I shook my head. "Ugh, it's so weird calling someone Punk. I feel like I'm scolding you or something."

He grinned, seemingly forgetting about my strange expression. "Yeah, well, get used to it. If I hear you call me Phil, I'll have to put you in some kind of a headlock."

I shook my head. "Humor still isn't working."

He continued to grin at me. "Oh well."

* * *

About an half hour later, after I had convinced Punk I wasn't hungry, had to use the bathroom, and no, I did not want a Pepsi (like I was going to tell the Pepsi-loving-freak that I liked Coca-Cola) we finally sat down on his couch, the TV playing in the background. If you asked me what was playing that day, I couldn't tell you.

"So, why'd you invite me over?" I'd say I was feeling pretty bold, actually. The more I stayed with Punk, the more comfortable I got. He had an easy-going feeling about him.

"I don't know… I feel bad for waking you up because of John the other night. Figured I'd mend the ends." He left sorry for me? Great. Just fucking great.

"Oh… you didn't have to. It wasn't a problem."

Punk nodded. "Oh… well, it's too late for that. You're here now." Sure am. "So, how's it feel to be in the same room as the WWE World Heavyweight Champ?" There was a false cocky tone to him, letting me know he wasn't really saying it to be mean.

But, I hadn't known. "YOU WON THE BELT?" I shrieked.

He looked positively taken back. "You do watch, don't you?"

I calmed down a little. "I… did." Taking a deep breath, I had to grin. "I haven't watched since the end of June. Congratulations!"

He grinned back. Did I forget to mention how great that man's smile was? "Thank you. Why'd you stop watching?"

Bad move. "I… uh…" I wished I had a poker face.

"Sorry," he mumbled to me, obviously reading my face again. "Subject change time."

"Yeah," I muttered back.

"Uhm… favorite color?"

I looked at him, a 'are you serious?' look on my face. He shrugged. "Yellow," I muttered.

"Really? I pictured you a purple girl." He looked at me with a fascinated smile for a moment. "Strange."

I rolled my eyes. "What about you?"

"Don't really have one."

It went silent and I had to remember how to talk again. Every time he smiled, I couldn't remember. And he smiled a lot. "You know," I started, a bit happy with what I was going to say. "There is something about you Punk."

He raised an eyebrow, The Rock style. "There is?"

I nodded, smiling softly. "Yeah, there is. Like maybe someone's favorite jeans. They're comfortable. Slipping into them… it just feels right. Talking to you feels right." I smiled at my comparison.

"So you're saying I'm putting you at ease?" he asked back slowly.

I nodded. "Something not easily done."

He grinned like a child, obviously proud. "Cool." And in my mind, I thought, _cool, very cool._

* * *

**Read and review and update I shall. :3**


	12. Hey,hey,you,you, I dont likeyour friends

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: Sorry for the bit of wait to this chapter... I got sidetracked. Uhm... there isn't much to say about it, though it's bit of a filler. Not truly since there are a few important things that happen in it, but not enough to say something huge happened. You know? Oh well... thanks for the reviews and reading. Please: Enjoy! :)

* * *

"She is _really_ annoying," Phil stated to me, about a week later as Alice trotted away, his order in her hands. She looked so proud of herself as she grinned wildly at Taylor who gave her "you-got-him-in-your-hands" like smile. I wanted to laugh myself since that was far from the case.

Even if I had only really known Punk for a week personally, I knew that Alice was not his type. Annoying, giggly people who if was a fan of wrestling would definitely be a fangirl were his type. _At all._

"Sorry," I mumbled, sitting down next to him on my break. "I'd tape her mouth shut, but she might take it off to ask why, you know?" Phil smirked at me.

"Why are you sorry? You know, other than having shitty friends."

I made a face at him as Taylor skipped over, smiling widely at Punk. They were both obsessed with his size and muscles, deeming that he had to work out. Duh… if only they knew to the extent. Yeah, I had decided for Punk's well being, as well as my own that Alice and Taylor did _not _need to know what his job was.

"Hi!" she shrieked, sitting down next to me. "Since it's such a slow day here, figured I'd come and talk with y'all."

Punk gave her a polite smile. "Hi Taylor." This would be the exact moment normally she'd excuse herself to pull me aside and scream about how 'he said her name, they were going to be soul-mates, have fifteen babies, and go old on a cotton farm', but I think Taylor had forgotten how to talk.

I couldn't blame her. Punk's smile was mildly addicting. Or more so heroin-like addicting. Not that I noticed or anything. "So anyway, about that shitty stuff," I continued, not caring that shitty one was sitting next to me. I also found it odd how open I found myself to be while around Punk. Even though I had told him that, being with him more and more made me realize I didn't _care_ what I said around him, because I knew he wouldn't judge me.

… Except for the one thing he couldn't know. What no one in Chicago could know and that was my past.

"Charity," Taylor's voice broke my thoughts. Part of me pouted, I liked thinking about Punk. Punk smirked at me when Taylor wasn't looking and rolled his eyes.

"Huh?"

"I was saying something to you."

"Oh," I answered. "Sorry. What?"

"Alice and I are going out tonight," she squealed.

"That's a big surprise." She frowned at my comment, obviously a little taunted by my bluntness. If anything of Punk's personality was rubbing off on me, it was definitely his blunt ways of saying things. "Sorry," I muttered while Punk stifled a laugh. "So?"

Taylor sighed dramatically. "So? I'm inviting you!"

"You already know my answer."

She giggled, swatting me. I was beginning to wonder if she was drunk. The little Penn inside of my head laughed at that comment. He'd be exceptionally quiet lately… I wondered how long I'd received that gift.

"No, I'm not just inviting _you_ this time, Charity. I'm inviting Phil too." You know what was great? Punk made Alice and Taylor call him 'Phil'. It never failed to make me giggle.

"Uhm, Tay, I don't think Punk really—"

She turned to Punk before even listening to what I had to say. She smiled warmly at him, leaning over seductively. It was obvious that he was fighting back more laughter, but someone like Taylor didn't even notice. "So how about it?"

Was I even there anymore? "Uhm… what Charity was saying is that I don't do drinking." I smiled. We weren't going anywhere. "But as long as that is respected, I'd love to go."

I nearly choked on air. _What? _I thought.

Inside of my head, even Penn went: _What? Why the fuck is he going to a club? Char… something is strange._

_You think? _I snapped.

_Sorry, touché. _

_Shut up! _I growled.

"Phil," I said, not bothering to use "Punk" and he knew it. "Don't you have to leave, _real_ early in the morning for work?" Punk stared at me, his expression really unreadable, as if he didn't know what to say or to do. Part of me believed that he only said yes to Taylor to string her along, but another part of me saw genuine antics to him.

Punk smacked himself in the head. "Oh… right, I do." He turned to Taylor, smiling slyly. "Maybe next time."

She nodded eagerly. "Yes, that'll be great! But, Charity, how about you? You have to come!" she whined. "You never come anywhere with Alice and I. Please?!"

"No," I told her quickly. "You know my answer and it's not changing."

Alice came up then, with the crappy food for Punk. He looked at it and then back at me, as if to say, 'This is food?' Serves him right. "She said no again," Alice observed.

Taylor pouted, getting up. "They both did."

Alice patted Taylor on the shoulder as they began to walk away. "We'll get her soon, I promise."

"To hell they will," I grumbled under my breath. For a second, my mind wandered without purpose and I let something I didn't want said ever come out of my mouth, "I want to go home."

Punk nodded. "Me too." He stared at his food. "Without a stomachache."

I shrugged. "You're the one that keeps coming here and ordering."

He smirked at me. "Wrong. I come here to visit you, alas also risking getting noticed and then get roped in by Thing One and Thing Two to eat something. I never say I want to eat here. Anyone in their right mind wouldn't."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. So, what was that?"

He took a bite of something I hoped was eggs. "What was what?" he said with a full mouth of food, reminding me of Shannon that day at Matt's house. I immediately cringed thinking about it. I didn't want to have any memories from then… at all. Inside of me though, Penn danced.

"Ew," I grumbled, wanting to cry for some reason. "You know what."

Punk grinned. "Oh, _that_." I nodded. "Just shitting with her. No offense, Charity but I'd never go out with those girls, even if they paid me." This reassured me greatly. "I can imagine them drunk is a whole lot scarier."

"Never saw it, but yeah, I'd bet some money on it." I smiled at him, looking in their direction. They were staring at us, obviously trying to talk in hushed whispers. Part of me wondered what they were talking about, part of me already knew.

"Hey, did you know that ECW and Smackdown are coming here in two weeks. I can get tickets if you want to go." I looked up then, my face freezing. If someone would have offered me free WWE tickets a year ago, I would have jumped at the offer. I couldn't even remember the last time I went to a show. But now, now I feared it, even if I was in the nose bleed seats.

"No," I whispered back.

He looked at me, his face turning to the expression where he knew something was weird about me, but he didn't want to press it. "You sure? I could get you great seats." Definitely no. "Maybe like four from ring-side."

"No thanks," I said, still in a low voice. Penn was enraged in the inside of my bed.

He smirked. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were afraid to meet my friends. I promise, they don't stink that bad."

I frowned, this time from confusion. "You're still not funny… at all." I paused, thinking about how good Matt and Jeff always smelled. "And that one made no sense at all anyway."

Punk grinned fully. "Hey, I try."

* * *

**Next chapter: **Back at Charity's apartment, she tries to figure out why Punk makes her so at ease. And he just mind find things out he'd never think...

**Read and review and update I shall. :3**


	13. A holy shit moment

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: Seriously, three reviews to the last chapter? With the amount of views it got, I'd say alot of people didn't review. All I ask is that you review, it means alot to me... thank you to those who did. :) Anyway, I have another chapter, obviously. Let's not even get into my all out hatred with the Matt/Jeff storyline right now. Heh. Anyway... enjoy!

* * *

Later that night, I sat alone in my apartment. I could hear Punk snoring from next door (truthfully, it was better than hearing explosions from his stupid video games) while I tried to do some "housework". When you live alone and you're already a neat-freak, there isn't much to do.

Sighing, I sat down on my flimsy couch and listened to Punk snore through the paper thin walls. He'd be gone by seven in the morning, leaving me to be all by my lonesome for the next nine days. When he would return, he'd be the entire WWE with him.

"I seriously need to make some more friends," I mumbled to myself, waiting for Penn to answer me inside of my head with something snarky. Of course the one time I do expect something, he doesn't. "You're a jerk."

Finally, I decide to head to bed and wonder in spite of myself how I was feeling like that. Truthfully, as I sat alone in bed that night, I missed home. I missed my mother's guiding ways and I _almost_ missed the low rumble of my father's scolding and business-like voice.

Most of all, I missed the real Penn, the Penn who I could run to in times of trouble, not the sarcastic Penn who only appeared when he wanted to. Plus, what was that even in my head? A figment of my imagination, perhaps. I missed late night conversations that involved the most random of topics. I missed coming home to find him doing something I'd never be good at, wondering where my talent lied. Yet, the thing I still wished for and truly missed more than anything in the world was coming home on Monday, Tuesday and Friday nights to watch wrestling with my brother, seeing the Hardy Boys in the flesh, doing what they loved and did best.

Yet, as I started to fall asleep on my lumpy bed, I knew I was far from all of that. That period of my life ended the night my father decided I wasn't Charity Burns anymore. I wasn't _his_ Charity Burns. Because for the one time in my life I felt truly _happy_ with whom I was (minus my brother's death), my father had to ruin it.

Who was Charity Burns? I didn't recognize myself in the mirror any longer. Sure, it was the same face almost, just with shorter hair and a paler complexion, but the person I once was, was gone. Even when I was terrified of everything to do with living, I was at least alive. Here in Chicago, I didn't feel alive at all.

The closest I came to that was when I was with Punk. Why was that? Why did one man I didn't truly even know hold me so close to something I maybe once was, or was becoming? The true me? Why did Punk have the power to make me something different from what my boss, landlord, Alice, and Taylor saw?

Punk, I knew he had to see something different from what Chicago had made me. The only wonder that filled my mind though, why? Or better yet, did Punk know that there was a different me out there? Two different Charity Burns other than the one he saw.

The one back in New York, the one who was on her way to a new, better life in a sense. Or the Chicago Charity Burns who was just a body going through each day, soul lost in the crowd. And who was Charity Burns as she stood next to Punk? There had to be an answer to my questions. There had to be an escape as well… only, I didn't know if I would ever find it, it seemed.

* * *

Nine days can go either considerably slow when you have no life, or in my odd case, really, really fast. Soon enough, I was hearing about how WWE was coming back to Chicago… it filled the upbeat city air. Everywhere I went (better yet, my job or the supermarket) I heard it. Whether it was from the radio (work) or from excited fans (supermarket), it made its way to my ears.

Part me of wanted to get excited too. The little part of New York Charity who still thrived somewhere deep down inside of me, that is. Chicago Charity mocked my little bit of excitement.

Most of all though, when those nine days came to a close, I was excited to see Punk. I was ready to have that strange, unlike either city Charity come out to play, to run frolicking in the freedom for a few hours. To have pointless conversations about absolutely nothing if it meant a laugh or two (which came along with at least five bad jokes on Punk's part… seriously, did he not understand he was a wrestler, not a comedian?).

I waited anxiously for him to return on the morning of the tenth day. I knew he'd be coming (the glorious paper walls never lie) and I couldn't wait to surprise him… or lack there of, actually.

I was sitting on my couch (so exciting, right?) when I heard the elevator 'ding'. Almost instantly, I jumped up and ran to the door, pulling it open quietly. Slowly, Punk came into view, a large rolling travel bag bobbing behind him. He had a signature baseball cap in place and a sweatshirt, holding faith in those two objects to keep his identity of "CM Punk" a mystery to those who saw him pass.

He was close to his door when I jumped out with a signature 'Boo' of my own. Punk only twitched at my attempt to scare him and then burst into a grin. "Good try," he teased. "You're going to have to do better than that."

I pouted, gripping the door frame and swinging back and forth. "It's not my fault you're a robot when it comes to emotions."

He mimicked my words in a teasing fashion again and then fished around for his key. I stepped out fully from my apartment doorway and smiled. Punk lost his key once a week. It was a miracle he even could ever get into his apartment.

"How'd you know I was coming anyway?" he asked absentmindedly.

A loud laugh came from my mouth without even realizing it. "Uhm, hi, paper thin walls… ever hear of them? You're lucky I didn't hear you when you stepped _into _the building."

Punk smirked, nodding. He too understood the idea I was getting at. Unless you lived in our apartment building, it was nearly impossible to even explain how easily you heard the sounds of your neighbors. I didn't mind hearing Punk though… especially when he was engrossed in a video game, screaming profanities at the TV screen. I didn't mind, but I could only imagine what his other neighbor thought…

"Right," he replied finally, pulling a shiny key from his back pocket. My eyes lingered there for a moment, picturing Punk in those shiny yellow wrestling trunks before scolding myself. "Coming in?"

I shrugged, closing my door for my answer. "Why not? Though, I could just stand in my apartment and talk to you from there. I'd say it'd be perfectly clear."

He laughed lightly. "Sure."

Punk shrugged himself inside then, leaving me ample space to follow in. His apartment reeked of stale air. I'd have to ask him to let me open a window once in a while when he was away… I didn't know how he could take it.

"What's with the face?"

"Face?" I replied.

"You're making a disgusted face. I thought you said my apartment didn't bother you."

"I said the design didn't. Never said anything about the smell."

"Smell?"

Right then, I had to make another face. Men definitely did come from a different planet than women. "You don't _smell _that?"

"Smell what?"

"Forget it!" I chided playfully.

"Women," he said with a sigh.

"Men," I taunted right back. "This place could reek of rotten eggs and I don't think you'd notice," I called as I opened a window. "Plus it's about, oh, I don't know, a thousand degrees in here. Don't you ever use this thing?" I tapped his air conditioner lightly.

"No."

"And you're in a sweatshirt," I mumbled.

"Are you done making fun of the way I live, Martha Stewart?"

"Funny," I smirked. "You finally said something funny."

"It's time for a parade!"

I giggled, coming over to hug him. "I missed you… its lonely here when no one else is around.

"Oh yeah? Why don't you go spend your life with Alice and Taylor?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because I value my life," I answered with a snort.

Punk laughed, pulling on a piece of my air as I headed back over to turn the AC on. "Funny too."

"You got me."

"So," he started, sitting down on a wobbly chair in his "kitchen" (or lack there of). "I'm having a few friends over tonight before we have the show tomorrow. Wanna come over?"

"You have friends?" I said with a smirk.

Punk laughed. "Why all the snarky remarks from you today?"

I grinned, sitting down on yet _another _wobbly chair. "You know, you make millions of dollars. Why the hell can't you fix these? Better yet, why do you live in this hell hole?" I grumbled.

Punk frowned. "A place to live is a place to live. It's not raining on me, now is it? It's not like I'm here a lot."

I nodded, understanding him. "Just a place to sleep at night."

He nodded at me too. "Yeah. So, you never answered me… you gonna come over tonight?"

"I want Doritos."

"Deal. Is that a yes?"

"Sure thing, jerk."

* * *

"Blue Ranch or Nacho Cheese?" Punk asked me on the phone about an hour later while I tried to make his apartment look like someone actually lived in it. After being attacked by his stupid X-box _twice_, I had given up in the livingroom and tried to make the kitchen look homey.

"Doesn't matter."

"I'm gonna get a twelve back of Pepsi for myself… is that okay?"

I couldn't help but groan. Never had I mentioned that I thought Pepsi was disgusting. "No," I grumbled.

"Why not?" I swear, he sounded hurt by the fact that I said no to Pepsi.

"Because I like Coca-Cola."

"You're kidding me."

"No."

"Coke is nasty!"

"Pepsi is nasty."

"That's not true!"

"Are we seriously fighting over this?" I wondered outloud. "Just pick up what you want. I'll deal with it I—" I stopped mid-statement as there was a knock on the door. "Someone is here."

"Well, let them in, then," Punk said as the sound of beeping registers became louder in the phone. "Someone is probably early."

Realization dawned on me. "When you said friends…" I couldn't finish my statement as another knock surfaced on the door. "Shit." I hung up the phone and stared at the metal. Friends… co-workers?

Is there a fire exit I can escape from here?

_Knock, knock._

"Shit," I moaned.

Slowly, I made my way to the door and opened it slowly. At the other end were John… and the Miz. Even though John was not one of my favorite people and I didn't even know the Miz, I was definitely glad to see them, and not two North Carolinian boys.

"Who the hell is she?" Miz asked. "Punk's got a girl?"

"No," John chided, not even looking at me as he let himself inside. Maybe I was invisible to him, only visible to John? Or not… ouch.

"Who are you?" Miz asked me.

"Charity."

"Yeah, not ringin' any bells." He stared at me for a moment before declaring he had to pee.

_Great, leave me alone with the person who thought I am nothing better than scum. _"Please stop looking at me like that," I mumbled, sitting on a chair.

"Why are you here?" he asked in a low, dark voice.

"I was invited," I snapped back. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Does he know that you're a cold-hearted, backstabbing bitch who runs away like a fucking sissy?" Okay, ouch again. I cringed, trying to not let it get to me. "Look at me, Charity."

"No," I whispered softly.

"Why?" he asked back, voice angered. "Can't do that, can you?"

"No."

"I guess you won't care than that I told Matt and Jeff… and _Shannon _that I saw you."

My head snapped up. _"YOU WHAT?" _I shrieked.

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	14. A night with the boys

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: Thank you for all the reviews last chapter. :) They make me happy and when I'm happy, I update faster. So keep 'em coming! :) And go Cardinals! (And I have no idea of anything to do with football... just sayin' so, so my best friend doesn't win a bet about something. He's a jerk right now. ^__^ Enjoy the chapter!

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"What's going on in here?" I nearly doubled over in relief as Miz – Mike – came back in from the bathroom. Hopefully John had enough class not to say anything about my past in front of him… cue on hopefully.

I waited, eyes on John as he stared between Mike and I. _Please, _I pleaded with myself. _Let him have some kind of heart…_

"Nothin'," he mumbled, looking towards the raging air conditioner, his eyes gazing over. Something I was quickly learning was that John was able to hide his emotions easily. Ever-so quickly he looked bored beyond belief in the apartment.

Mike, on the other hand, had found the woman-attacking X-box on the floor. He picked up a controller, flicked on the TV, and sat on the couch, as if he was at home. I waited for those _ugly_ sneakers he was wearing to come flying off.

"Where is Phil anyway?" Mike called out, not looking up from whatever game he was playing. John's eyes fell on me.

"At the store."

"Great, I hope he brings back a ton of shit," Mike called out. He was getting to be obnoxious to me.

So if the self-proclaimed "chick magnet" was going to be engrossed in video games, that left John to stare at me. "What?" I growled at him. "I'm not talking to you about this."

John smiled smugly, something that looked very in character. "You're dying to know what I told them."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are," John whispered back so Mike wouldn't hear. "Not only are you a terrible person, but you're a terrible liar too."

"Why do you find it fond to make assumptions about me when you _hardly know me_?" I asked through gritted teeth. John and I stayed locked in a heated gaze until Punk's door opened, his arms being eaten alive by shopping bags.

As I hopped up to help him, John pulled me back, "This isn't over."

"It is now," I stated back simply and walked over to Punk. "Jeez, did you buy the whole store?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "You've never been in the same room as Mike. He eats more than all three of us combined at times." I smiled… Mike didn't even budge from the couch. He seemed to be very engrossed in whatever was exploding on the screen. "So did these two torture you to death yet?"

"Not at all," I told him sweetly, avoiding a gaze from John.

"It would have been nice to know that you had someone else in your apartment when we arrived," John said, coming up beside us. "Especially a chick." Was I not right there?

"Charity is a new friend," Punk replied casually, dumping three different bags of chips (one being Blue Ranch Doritos) onto the table, followed by something I couldn't recognize.

"I see," John mumbled.

"Where are Matt and Jeff?"

My heart froze, stopped beating inside of my chest and I looked up. John wasn't looking at me, but I knew he saw that my entire body had stopped functioning because of the words. Matt and Jeff were coming? I had to get out of there! There was no way I could see them… shit.

"They're mad at me, actually. Decided not to come," John replied. "We had a fight over an issue."

"Issue?"

John looked pointedly at me as he shrugged, a hint of a self-satisfied smiled on his face. "Yeah, not a big deal. Something that'll be taken care of soon." What the fuck is that supposed to mean? John seemed to be enjoying my confusion as I stared at him, trying to yield it from his face.

"So they're not coming?"

"Nope."

"Well damn. I bought an eighteen pack of beer for you assholes."

Mike came up from his sit, surprisingly, perhaps at the sound of the word "beer". "We'll finish it," Mike said, eyeing the pack of Budweiser.

"Of course you will," Punk muttered.

I relaxed a little, hearing the news that Matt and Jeff were indeed not coming to Punk's apartment. For a scare like that happening the second time that night, it surely was taking it's toll.

"You alright, Charity? You look like you've seen a ghost or something." Punk came up beside me and rested his hand on my shoulder. "Sorry if these assholes are scaring you."

"Not at all," I replied sweetly, deciding to take a chance and look at John. He seemed to be lost in thought, not even looking at me. Damn it… I wanted to see him get annoyed by that. Stupid asshole.

"Good. John and Mike aren't too bad. Just got a case of moronitis or something, you know?"

"Not funny," I reminded him.

Beside me, Mike whooped. "She sees that you're a fucking lame comedian too?" Mike grinned at me. "I think I like her already."

Punk flipped him off. "Yeah, well, just remember this. She'll always like me better, asshole."

"We'll see about that," Mike chided.

John didn't say anything at the two's bickering. He honestly seemed to be thinking about something and I couldn't place anything anymore. It infuriated me… what was he thinking?

Finally, I broke from the thought. "So, what are y'all doing?"

Almost at once, all three of them replied, even John, "Video games."

"Video games?" It gave me horrible memories with my male cousins and Penn during the summers of my childhood. Every day, video games, video games, video games. UGH.

"Of course," Mike replied, swinging a free arm over my shoulder. "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll teach ya to kick ass."

"Uhm…" I mumbled, unsure how to answer.

As John and Mike headed for the livingroom, I looked at Punk with a pleading look. "Video games?" I inquired to be sure. "And I thought you were different from other guys."

He laughed. "I am, I promise you."

"Yeah, I once believed that, but now… I think I will loose all of my brain cells tonight."

"Good thing you only need one to function at a diner job, right?"

I growled. "Not funny."

Punk smirked. "Wrong. Come on… maybe we'll even play a few rounds of Pacman."

"Pacman?" I asked. I did like Pacman.

Punk smiled, patting my shoulder. "It was Maria's favorite. She never took it with her."

Hmm… "Fine. But if I have to see—"

He didn't even let me finish, only pulled me towards the livingroom, giving me a half-a-second to grab the bag of Doritos and then crash onto his crappy couch.

Hours later, I realized I was almost having fun. Who would have thought that hours of video games with two drunk guys and one dorky guy would be so full of laughter? Or fun, for that matter. And the idea of the Carolina Crew knowing that I still existed was far from my mind, if only for a little while.

"I'm beat," Mike mumbled, yawning as he finished off his fourth beer in the two and a half hours he'd been at the apartment. Okay, maybe he wasn't drunk, but he was surely tipsy.

John, who seemed to be a bit more sensible that night, had only drank two. He yawned too… and if I wasn't unbelievably mad at him, I would have totally thought it was cute. Uhm, sorry, but the man is drop dead gorgeous. "Me too."

"Me three," I added without thinking.

Mike flashed me a smile but didn't say anything. I even smiled back. He wasn't too bad, a bit of a dork himself, but definitely enjoyable once you get used to him. Reminded me of… oh, no, no. _NO._

"I guess we'll be leaving," John mumbled, standing up. Quickly, we cleaned up the mess we had made while playing and all stretched. I vowed to bring a comfier seat next time something like that happened.

As they headed toward the doors, I smiled to myself in triumph. I had gotten through the night without another confrontation with John and even had fun. Sure, I was curious (okay, more than curious) to how much the boys knew about me and where I was, but if they didn't show up at my door tonight, they couldn't know _too_ much, right?

"Nice meeting you guys," I told him both, though one I was way too familiar with.

Mike, in his tipsy state even kissed my hand… okay, it was cute. "Goodnight, Charity."

I giggled while both John and Punk rolled their eyes. John only nodded once and said, "Goodnight."

With that, they both waved to Punk and the door closed. I let out a big, vast, enormous gust of air from my lungs. Can we say "weight lifted off your shoulders"? "That was fun."

"You actually enjoyed that?" Punk asked, sitting down at the kitchen table.

I sat in the chair opposite him, smiling. "Yeah. It reminded me of times when my brother and I were young."

"You have a brother?" Oops… I should have never opened my mouth.

"Yeah," I mumbled softly. "He's on the mantle in my apartment."

It grew quiet, even for the apartment building. Was everyone listening in? "How come you never mention him or anything to me?"

I sighed heavily, trying to avoid the subject. Why'd I have to open my big mouth. Punk moved his hand over the table, touching mine. I think he knew it was upsetting me. "He died back in June."

"Oh, Charity. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up," he continued. "Sorry."

I smiled softly. "It's fine. You know, sometimes it feels like he's even still here, you know? I can feel him around me." If he only knew how much… wait. I paused, listening to my thoughts, which were surprisingly quiet. Where had Penn been the entire day? I thought back throughout the day, trying to think of one snarky comment he had made… he hadn't. Why… what?

"I'm sure," Punk agreed. He sighed. "You know, as annoying as they can be, I couldn't imagine life without my sisters."

"Yeah," I answered softly, yawning without meaning to.

Punk laughed. "Looks like you're tired."

I blushed, covering my mouth. "Sorry. I guess I should go."

He nodded. "You don't want to fall asleep on this table. It might break from under you."

I giggled, snapping my fingers. "You're getting funnier." Punk smirked as we both stood up and walked toward the door. He stood next to me for a moment. I smiled when I noticed that familiar-type stare. And before I knew it, I was locked in it too.

We were kissing before I realized it. It wasn't a full on make-out, but it was way more than a quiet peck on the lips. And before he could continue, I burst from the apartment, my eyes widening. He didn't follow after me. I panicked as I dug for my key, trying to get the hell inside of my apartment.

It was already unlocked.

I entered, breathing a sigh of relief as I turned the lock and put on the light, nearly screaming at the top of my lungs when I saw wha sat on the couch waiting for me.

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	15. The Devil's bargin

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N_**: Eeeee! You guys have me so excited. 16 reviews? Big hugs to alll!! Thank you soo, soo much for every one of them. I'm flippin' happy right now... plus, it's Monday and that means RAW. Yippee! Enjoy the chapter!

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"How the fuck did you get into my apartment?" I seethed. "Get out!" I screamed when he smiled smugly at me. Working my way over to the couch, I kicked his leg, though he didn't budge. Obviously someone as short as I was wasn't going to injure a pro-wrestler… especially one as beautiful as him. "Are you deaf?"

John continued to smile arrogantly at me. "I'm not leaving."

"This is trespassing!" I hissed. "You can't just come into my apartment like this."

"It's not my fault you didn't lock the door," he answered.

"Go to hell," I spat.

He smiled. "Surely. But first, I'm sure you want to know the details of tonight. Also, I'm going to let you in on a few little things of my own."

"Well what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

John continued to look like an ego-case. "You only curse when you're absolutely pissed off. Such a child."

"I'm not a child."

"Uh-huh."

"Just fuckin' continue before I call the cops."

"I'm so afraid," John chided, standing up. "One: yes, I did tell Matt and Jeff I saw you. I can only assume they told Shannon and Jeff's girlfriend."

"You promised me you weren't going to tell them!" I pleaded, looking like a child I'm sure. For some reason, I put faith into John's words. How could he do something like that?

"I never promised _you_ anything. I don't promise coldhearted bitches anything. I just told you I wouldn't tell them. And guess what? I lied."

Tears threatened my eyes. "How long to they arrive here?"

"You really don't know how to listen, do you?"

My head snapped up as my eyes narrowed. "Can you _please _stop insulting me?"

John smiled again, enjoying himself. He taunted his way over to me. "I enjoy it too much to not. Anyway, you should listen to me better. I said I told them I saw you."

"Yeah, asshole, I heard you. I'm not deaf."

"But you're not really listening to me," he explained. "I told them I saw you. I didn't tell them where you were, or how I knew everything I did." He took a seat on the couch again, leaning back, obviously proud. His t-shirt poked up, exposing his abs, temporarily leaving me to gawk and forget what I was supposed to be doing.

I think John noticed too. "Wait, what?" I demanded. "Why did you do that?"

John sighed, though it didn't really seem to have a reason. "I'm not a complete asshole, Charity."

I breathed out. "Could have fooled me."

John smirked, looking at me. "I told Matt and Jeff that I saw you one night while I was at a diner. They asked for more information and I said they'd get it at a later date." He laughed. "Nearly jumped me afterward. They're pissed that I'm not telling them more."

"_Are_ you going to tell them more?" I asked quietly.

He smiled softly. "That depends. Matt and Jeff are my friends. Not close, close friends, but close enough. Shannon, too. And I'm not going to torture them much longer." He took a deep breath. "To tell you the truth, Punk has talked about you to me a couple times since he's met you. I figured you'd be at his apartment tonight."

I just stared at him.

"So I made sure Matt and Jeff couldn't come. They got so mad they told me to tell Punk they had to cancel. Of course, he doesn't realize _why_. Nor did they know there was a chance you'd be here. You know what the funniest part of this is? They're right now the street… and they have no idea whatsoever how close you are. Almost pathetic. I'm such a genius."

"Can you please just fucking continue?"

He smirked. "Easy, girl. I was… I figured if I got them to cancel, I'd get alone time with you tonight and explain my idea. Never did I guess you'd leave your door unlocked… now _that_ was just an added bonus." He noticed my really pissed off gaze then and laughed. "I'm getting there. Hold your fucking horses." He took another deep breath. "So here is my proposition. You have a week to tell Punk about everything… and don't bother asking what everything is, you know what everything is."

"But—"

"I'm not finished. And if you don't, I'm going to give Matt and Jeff your exact location to find you at. Don't think about running… it'll be too late by then. Surely, you'd be upset if Punk found you vanished. Oh wait, running away without telling anyone is your favorite thing to do!" I glared at him. "Oh and think of it this way. I'll be telling Punk about everything too and how you've been lying to him."

"You're a fucking asshole, you know that right?"

John patted my shoulder. "I've heard. So do we have a deal?"

"How is this a deal?" I growled, but he didn't answer. "And if I say no?"

John pulled out his phone. "I have their numbers right here," he said, taping the phone. "Want to see how quickly they get here?"

I stiffened. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, the contrary. I would."

"I fucking hate you!"

John howled. "I know. And you know what the best part of this is?"

I growled at him again, wanting to scratch his pretty eyes out. How could such a beautiful creature be so damn fucking cruel? "What?"

"Either way with Punk – you get screwed." He laughed bitterly. "I'm not letting you fucking ruin Punk's life too. You've already screwed up enough." He stood up, dusting off his dark jeans. He held out a hand to me. I stared at it. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Charity Burns."

"Go to hell," I spat out, trying to keep my voice down so Punk _wouldn't_ hear.

"Surely," he replied to me, opening my door and closing it. As soon as he was out of view, I locked it and slid to the floor, tears soaking through my palms. What was I going to do?

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	16. Goodbye to everything I thought I knew

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N:_** Somewhat short of a chapter... sorry about that, but I think it's gonna set the stage. I don't think it's my best writing, but I really wanted to update tonight... and yeah. Uhm... random thing: Hinder is amazing. And that's about it. I'll try to update on Friday! :) Enjoy!

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It took me a while to get my emotions anywhere near control. Between the recent actions between Punk and me, and my upcoming vast problem, I was a great candidate for mental breakdown. All I wanted to do was sob, sob, and sob some more and for once, I didn't care if my walls weren't good enough to block out the sound… if Punk heard, so be it.

And a double second told me and made me realize that it was happening again. The moment before everything hit rock bottom and the point where I didn't know what to do, or how to cope. This happened just after Penn's death and left catastrophic results behind, obviously.

How could I tell Punk all of that? Tell him that I knew so much more about everything. How would he feel knowing so many of what he thought was truth, were lies? Why I didn't go out with my friends and act like a normal person? Because going out into the public would result in me being recognized by someone.

I was stupid for even getting a job that interacted with the public.

Could I tell Punk though? Punk was a laidback guy… he'd understand. Punk wasn't someone to judge so easily, maybe, just maybe if I did tell him he'd understand me. But what happened when I told Punk, how would John know? What would happen with Matt and Jeff? They'd be getting pretty curious in a weeks time. John knew valuable information… and they wanted it. Matt was stubborn, he wasn't going to resist John's game must longer.

I knew that much. And Jeff… Jeff had the ability to smolder someone with his eyes. Would that work on John? Or maybe… I didn't know.

"What am I going to do?" I asked quietly, holding out for that familiar voice. Where was Penn? Maybe I didn't want to admit it, but I missed the snarky comments. His voice was the only thing I truly had left from my old life, the only thing I could still grasp onto. The quiet voice in my head was gone… leaving me by myself in what to do with the tricky situation.

Slowly, I got up from my fetal position on the floor and wiped my eyes. My feet took me shakily to my room and my hand slowly turned on the light. A bright flash filled the room, making my eyes go dull for a moment before adjusting. I walked slowly to the closest, opening a hidden shoe box. Inside it held my savings, always for "just in case". I counted it; find it to be about six hundred and seventy dollars.

How far could that get me? How disclosed could I get? Was I willing to leave it all behind again, and start anew? Was there anything I could do to avoid this? All these questions went through my head a warped speed, wrapping around the idea before I even had a chance. It seemed obvious to me, John was right. I was good at running away, so why not do it again?

Alice and Taylor would get along without me. As much as I didn't want to admit it, they were pretty shallow girls and once I was gone for about two months, my image would be a distant memory. A childish young adult who was thrust into their lives for a little playtime, a little dress up. Let's see what we can do with a mannequin?

Who else was there? Punk… well Punk. I was going to hurt worse than him. Seemingly, this would trash me forever. If Punk found out from John, I'd never be trusted again. And once Matt and Jeff found out, I'd be a lost cause. So close to their grasp forever, yet never close enough.

Everyone would grow to hate me.

Did I want that?

I wanted the complications to go away.

I wanted a simple, easy life full of what I needed.

I wanted my life back.

A life where I didn't need to be afraid of being discovered. A life where I felt secure in everything I did. Where was that life… why didn't I have it? Never was I a bad person… why did fate lead me to this?

I sighed as I pulled out my two suitcases. Slowly, observing each object as I packed them, I began to cry all over. Finally, I packed what little stuff I had and put them quietly in front of the door. The last object still sat on the mantle, watching me.

The picture of Penn and me. I removed it carefully, always gentle to it with my touch. After all, it was all I had left again. With the voice (no matter how creepy it was) I was just Charity again. My brother the human was gone. The voice off in some land. The picture, just full of my memories I needed to cherish.

Again, emotions began to get the better of me. I broke down onto the floor, my chest heaving with each cold, hard sob. Part of me was surprised Punk hadn't come knocking yet. After all, we had kissed, whatever the hell that meant. Did it matter anymore?

With one deep breath, I grabbed my bags, turned off the light and opened the door. My eyes didn't wander to Punk's door as I headed down the hall, quietly because of the late time. I refused to let myself think about what I was leaving behind.

My legs wavered at the elevator doors, waiting for them to open so I could begin my journey elsewhere. But when they opened, I was shocked to see what stood before me.

His face, crestfallen, eyes dark. "Where are you going?"

"Punk… I… um," I stumbled, looking to the ground like an ashamed student.

"You're leaving."

It wasn't a question, but a statement.

I nodded slowly, feeling the moisture fill my eyes. I figured I'd get away with no questions asked. Running into Punk like that, I couldn't control my emotions. I didn't want to leave him, but John was leaving me no other way. "Yes."

He cleared this throat, and then asked, "Why?"

"It's complicated."

"Complicated."

"Yes."

"Charity… are you kidding me?" he whispered. "What is going on?"

The tears fell down my cheeks. "I can't tell you."

Another awkward silence followed and I wished I could just brush past him, pretending like I didn't care as much as I did. It would be so much easier. "That's funny."

I forced myself to look up. He looked pissed. "Funny?" I asked, caution in my voice.

"Yes… funny. I betted differently. You're letting me down."

"Punk… you're… making… no sense." I stared at him, wishing I had some idea to whatever the hell he was talking about.

"I told John I knew you'd tell me sooner or later. He said as soon as he gave you the deal, you'd run. I didn't think he'd be right…"

I dropped one bag on the floor and stared directly into his eyes. "You… you know? John told… you?" My body nearly collapsed onto the floor. Where were Matt and Jeff… if Punk knew, Matt was probably next door or something… "How much?"

"All of it. Please don't leave." He reached out for me, but when his fingertips connected with my skin, I felt burned.

Forcefully, I whispered, "I have to."

"No, you don't."

I sighed. "You knew."

"Yes, I knew," he repeated.

One sharper betrayed breath filled my lungs before I said briskly, "You knew about this the entire time… and you…" I trailed off, picking up my bags. "You know why I'm leaving. Goodbye, Phil." With one quick turn, I stepped towards the stairs, not looking back.

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	17. Pretty damn well screwed

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N:_** Hey peeps! Sorry for the wait of this chapter, I've been sick. But I am feeling better and I wanted to update so badly, so guess what? I am!! :) Hehe. Not much to say here, but just to read and review! And of course, as always, thank you for the support... it means the world to me. Enjoy!

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Phil followed me though, chasing after me as I jogged down the stairs. "Don't leave!" he pleaded, his breathing labored as he caught my arm, swinging me around. His expression was genuine. "Please?"

"Give me one reason why I should stay after finding out about this?" I asked back, shoving my way out of his grasp. He fought me with trying to take it back. "I trusted you! _Trusted_ you, and if you do know the whole story, than you should know what a big deal that is to me. I don't trust people; I do my best shit when I'm not face to face with anyone!"

Phil didn't reply, only held onto my limp arm, staring at the carpeted ground.

"How could you not tell me you knew? Didn't you think someone would either tell me along the way or I would find out on my own? Everyone slips, Phil… and I can—"

"Why do you think I told you right now?" he fired about. He looked at me, tugging on his ponytail. "I want you to stay here! Why can't you do that? Why can't you accept that people care about you and want you in their life?" He looked at me in a demanding stature. "Do you want to live alone in your complete sorrow?"

"No," I muttered meekly. "I don't."

"Then why leave? I care about you Charity. John cares about you. The people like Matt, Jeff, Shannon and everyone else you've left behind care about you. Do you know what hell it's been for them, for John, for me knowing that once I was out of your view, you fell apart? You don't have much of a poker face, your emotions bleed through you!" He took a deep breath, dropping my arm. "And you still want to leave?"

I considered it for a moment. Of course I didn't want to leave! Never once did I want to leave. But I didn't do well with everyone like this. I felt ganged up on, alone in a world where everyone thought I wasn't alone. I wished I could care for them like they cared for me, to be around and to laugh like a normal person. To have friends that didn't just want me as a club partner, someone who truly cared… but I couldn't allow myself that and I didn't know why.

I was just someone broken completely… and it was my own fault. Why couldn't I be the girl they wanted me to be?

"Do you want to leave?" Punk asked again.

I looked to the ground, unable to hold his gaze. Just looking at him made me feel dirty, as if he could read my every thought and knew every reason I was the way I was. It didn't make sense to me, I grew up in a good household for the most part, and yet, I was unable to be that girl… the one… the normal one I used to be. I felt like I was never going to be normal again… ever since… Penn's death. Why did Penn always sneak up on me like that?

"No, I don't want to leave," I told him truthfully.

"Then why go?" he asked quietly. "Time can fix anything."

"Time can't fix anything." I looked up at him, tears in my eyes. "And that is why I need to go. I have everything I need, everyone who loves me just inches from my grasp. But all I'm ever going to do is hurt them, you, Shannon, everyone… I can't let myself be a burden like that." I took a deep breath, fully from who I felt I could be. "So I'm leaving."

Punk knew I was troubled as he heard my explanation. "Charity… please," he whispered once more.

"Goodbye, Punk," I whispered back sadly, and walked out of the apartment building, my eyes filling with tears.

-

As soon as I was alone, I saw I couldn't will myself far. I checked myself into the closest hotel and sat on the bed, staring at the wall. All of Punk's words swelled through my head, like a whirlpool going full blast. I wished I had aspirin so I could get the headache away, far, far away.

It was strange. I wanted to be away from the pain I was causing them and the pain I was causing myself, but I couldn't get myself away. There was some kind of magnetic field there, something that always allured me right back to when it began about four months ago, back in Matt's house. Part of me seemed to always be connected to that somehow. Like magically finding an apartment next to CM Punk. What are the chances of that?

I was just hopelessly devoted to making myself miserable.

My body heaved a sigh as I licked my lips and realized I was thirsty (and that my lips were very, very dry). It took me a minute to find my wallet (after my hasty retreat from my life, it had gotten thrown astray) and then I was off to the lobby to get a soda.

I walked there slowly, eyes barely seeing anyone around me. Maybe I was invisible, which would be a great thing for me to be, since I felt like a zombie and God only knows how bad I looked that night.

As I got closer to the Coca-Cola machine, I yawned, fully ready to crash onto the lumpy hotel bed before somehow trekking myself away from this city tomorrow. Tomorrow the WWE would put a show, like they had plenty of times before and though I should have been there, I would be miles and miles away… hopefully. Somehow, I was going to have to get myself out of Chicago, no matter how bad it hurt.

Then, the sound of someone's voice shattered my zombie-state and made my eyes widen. I flipped around quickly, scanning the room for the all too familiar voice of Matthew Moore Hardy. It didn't take long to find him with Jeff standing close by, talking to Eve Torres, with a hopeful gleam in his eye. In one arm was a gym bag, the other, a paper of some sort. But just in the slightest, I saw what I didn't know he had.

The new ECW Championship belt.

And for some reason, it made me start to cry (again). Knowing Matt had busted his ass for years to get where he was, it didn't surprise me that he had it, but seeing so… it made me weak to the knees. He looked so happy as he mingled with co-workers, a rare toothy smile on his face.

It was then I knew I couldn't leave without talking to him.

There was something in his face that made it impossible for me to leave.

My hands gripped the dollar-fifty I was holding tighter, staring at him as he pressed for the elevator. As it opened and he, Eve, and Jeff walked in, it dawned on me that it would be a good time to try to talk to him. My feet finally listened to my brain as I shoved myself forward, the elevator door slamming before I could even make it half-way over there.

_What now? What now?_ I asked myself, scanning the room for another face I might know. No one came into view, but the information desk.

And that would be the time a little light bulb would appear over my head if I was a cartoon. I jogged over there, smiling at the older man behind the desk. "Can I help you?" he asked in a monotone.

"Yes, you can," I said sweetly as possible. "I'm looking for my friend's room number… I can't seem to remember it. Is it possible to look it up for me?"

He nodded. "Name?"

"Matt Hardy."

"No, not the person's, yours."

I stared at him for a moment then sighed, "Charity Burns."

"I can't give you his name," he replied to me after a moment of staring at the Dell computer before him.

"Why not?" I demanded.

"You're not an employee of the WWE."

"So?"

"We're not allowed to give out the numbers to celebrity's rooms."

I stared at him, and then huffed my way toward the stairs. What was I going to do? How could I talk to Matt if I didn't have his room number? I pondered this as I went back to my room, pissed off. There had to be some way to talk to him, there had to be. But how?

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	18. A chance worth taking

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N:_** Hey everyone! Not much to say, but I'm on vacation again, so expect more updates from me! And of course, thank you very much for all the reviews... keep 'em coming! And enjoy the chapter!

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While I searched for a way to talk to Matt, something else dawned on me. It made sense, knowing that something like this obviously was meant for me to chase. Yet this time, I would be back… right? I pondered this all that night as I sat awake in the hotel room, watching old episodes of _the Twilight Zone_, also reminding me of Matt.

Maybe I should have gone hotel room searching. I could have found Matt if I wanted to. But that involved being forceful, which was something I was not, obviously. I wasn't about to barge in on someone I didn't know and demand if they knew where he was.

Especially if it meant the possibly of running in on Jeff… or worse, even if he wasn't in the company anymore: Shannon.

I barely knew what I was going to say to Matt when I did find him yet talking to Shannon would be a whole other ballpark. He was the one I had hurt the most, the one I'd left the most pain on. I couldn't face him… not yet.

Though, I knew I wasn't leaving anymore… at least not permanently. I had to follow something, but I would be back, I knew that much. And when I did come back, I hoped everyone wouldn't still hate me. I'd talk to Matt again and hopefully work things out. I knew it would be tough, since I'd done something that wasn't right by any means, but maybe they'd understand.

Or maybe, the question I would ask at that time was: 'Who was I kidding?'

I didn't know if I'd have to though, so going to this place was my only chance in my mind that night. And it was then I decided I knew how I was going to get my chat with Matt. It was more dangerous than going knocking on hotel doors, in my opinion.

It involved going on a WWE breeding ground, if only for one night. I would have to wait for Matt after the show. Security I wasn't worried about because as soon as Matt spotted me, I knew it'd be all over… I just hoped that Matt would notice me, or come out enough so he could see I was standing there: opened armed and everything.

So, the next morning, I prepped myself on what I was going to say, what I was going to wear and how I was not going to have a mental breakdown as I talked to him. Sure, it sounded easy in my mind, but I knew coming face to face with Matt would be downright terrifying. Matt wasn't a monster by any means; hell; I'd even call him a big, cuddly teddy bear, but seeing him after so long would make a girl like me weak to the knees in fear.

After a nice, light lunch, I was beyond anxious and my stomach was doing a full aerobic flip show inside of me. Everything made me jittery; any mention of anything to do with pro-wrestling made my head turn in weary that maybe someone I knew was in a ten-foot radius of me.

When it was about nine o'clock, I headed out toward the arena, coming straight up to the security gates where the superstars would pass. Even though the show was still in the middle of its main event (so I heard from other fans) many people were gathered around too in the hopes of a glimpse of a superstar, or if they were lucky, an autograph.

I was becoming a mess by the moment. My hands shook horribly, the sweat began to build up in embarrassing places and each time someone even said Matt's name, my face grew red.

It was seriously overwhelming knowing Matt wasn't even outside yet… when he came outside; I was beginning to think I was just going to faint dead on the spot.

Ugh.

The first superstar out was Brian Kendrick. He seemed a little dazed… someone mumbled something about being high. I frowned at that and stared at the doors, waiting for the next star. Who would be next? MVP. I cringed, trying to stay behind in the crowd. I might have only met him twice, but if anyone recognized me other than Matt, I was pretty much screwed.

A few people I didn't recognize came through next and I was starting to get antsy. Maybe Matt had already left… maybe his match was early and he jetted a while ago, maybe…

Then, what seemed to be if the Jonas Brothers stepped out and a million teenage girls were around me: screams. I shot my head up and saw him. He was smiling at everyone and I knew this was my only chance. For once, I didn't care as I shoved people out of the way, so I could get to the gate again.

He didn't see me… not yet.

Everyone was screaming his name, so I didn't know if I did could he hear me. But I tried anyway, "Matt!" I yelled, trying to be scene in the crowd. I yelled again, getting shoved by some scary looking woman wearing an Undertaker shirt. I glared at her and flipped back around. Matt signed one little boy's magazine and then started to walk again. "Matt!" I cried out.

It wasn't working. I knew security wasn't going to let me through, either, so I began to get desperate. Something… something to get his attention.

Like screaming out my name.

"MATT!" I wailed loudly. "It's Charity!"

And boy, did he flip around. For a split second, I did a little ego dance in my head. I was a genius, if only for a moment.

He scanned the crowd, looking for whoever screamed that. Except everyone was ecstatic when he turned around the crowd was getting jumpy. I knew the security weren't going to do anything until someone did something like jumping the barrier and grabbing him, so I flung my arms around and screamed again.

It was so unlike me, but it was working.

And no one had any idea who he was looking for, only thought he was going to sign something for them!

"Matt! Here!" I yelled again, desperate for my tiny voice to be heard over the loud calls of the Chicagoans.

Finally, he spotted me and started to walk over to security. They nodded briefly and he came walking in my direction. Again, my heart raced, but a smile was on my face. I had done it! Everyone around me got even more excited and started to say things including autographs.

He picked up one as he got closer, signing a poster, trying to look nonchalant. "What are you doing here?" he asked in a low voice I was surprised I heard.

"I need to talk to you," I pleaded back. "It's important."

He stared at me for a moment, unable to tell if I was telling the truth, I guess. "Now is not a good time, Charity," he whispered, grabbing another poster and signing it.

"I don't have too much time," I yelled back. "Matt, please."

He sighed, looking over his shoulder and then whispered in my ear, "Meet me at the hotel just down the street from here in twenty minutes."

I nodded eagerly. "Just you," I said back, seriously. "No Jeff, no Shannon. Just you."

He almost smiled. "Fine."

-

Ten minutes later, I stood in front of the hotel, my eyes moist with worry. Crying was out of the question now though; I had survived my first look truly at Matt again. It was hard, mind you, especially with probably a good two-hundred fans around. But I had done it and Matt was coming.

It was cool for September and I closed my arms around my chest in order to keep warm in the Windy City. People walked around me, going inside of the hotel, inside to the warmth. So badly did I want to be in there but I had to—"

"Charity," a low voice, belonging to Matt Hardy said.

I turned around quickly, a smile forming on my face. He looked less rushed than before and I had to take a _real_ look, a look that would satisfy me. Matt had gained a little weight since the last time I had saw him, but he looked relatively the same.

"Matt," I breathed out finally. "Hi."

"What did you need to talk about?" I was shocked at his bluntness.

It hurt, honestly. "First," I said firmly, "let me just say how sorry I am for all the torture I've put on you guys. I know the word isn't enough to prove that I am, but I want you to know that. I am sorry and I hope you hear me out right now."

Matt didn't reply.

"I've been in Chicago since early July, about a week or so after I left. I met P-CM Punk about a month or so later. Uhm… I've been living very low-key, just in case I ever ran into anyone I knew. Little did I know I lived next to CM damn Punk. I've tried to move on and when I found out Morrison told Punk everything—"

"He did?" Matt asked.

I nodded. "Yes. I just couldn't take it… I don't know. Maybe it's in my blood, but I planned on running away again. I don't know, like I said. I'm screwed up, what can I say? My brother's death did that to me. And there is more to that I'm not going to tell you right now since it will probably creep you out… but I'm following something I think needs to be done."

I stopped and took a deep breath.

"I'm not leaving this time for good. I'm going back home for a couple days, New York. I need to figure something out, maybe home is where my answer is, I don't know. But my gut is telling me so… and I need to follow that, Matt."

He nodded.

"And I will come back… well wherever. I don't know how long you're staying here, but my apartment is still here and I owe rent in about two weeks so…" I trailed off, smiling a little. "I'll be back. I just hope when I do, someone is still willing to be waiting, whether it's literally or figuratively."

He stayed silent for a moment, staring at me. "Wow," he finally muttered.

I looked at him, wondering what _wow_ meant. "Wow?" I asked quietly.

"I can't believe you hid this long."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Do you have any idea of how much shit you've caused. Shannon lost—"

"I know Shannon lost his job and I can only imagine the pain. All I'm asking for is a second chance here and I hope you can give it to me. If not, I do understand. But a little voice in my head is telling me I belong here, well… not here, but with you guys and I'm starting to believe it myself. I'm miserable alone and I'm tired of suffering when I don't have to," I admitted. "It took this long to realize, but seeing you and knowing you were here was the icing on the big, fat cake. I can't function… I can't breathe without you guys," I finished, out of breath.

He stared at me, a little smile lying in a toying way on his face.

Finally, after what seemed like a millennium of silence, I asked, "Can I call you when I get back?"

Matt shuffled, leaning against the wall. "I don't know. Can I trust that you're not going to go to fucking Alaska this time and go missing for another three months."

I smiled. "I won't."

"I'll relay the information."

"Is that a yes?" I asked hopefully.

"What do you think?" Matt asked with a full smile. I threw my arms around him for a moment, welcoming his warmth and scent, if only for a moment. He pulled away and looked at me darkly, "You're not forgiven though, and I hope you know that. This is just me either being a complete bastard, or possibly doing something that will help everyone. I'm only giving you once chance here, Charity, don't screw it once. I need to go now—"

"I won't!" I promised quickly, nodding just as fast. "Go! Go! I need to get my rental. I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise." Matt nodded and then disappeared into the night, leaving me with a hopeful smile on my face.

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**Read and review and update I shall. :3**


	19. Silhouette of an Angel

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N:_** Heyhey! Hope everyone is still enjoyin'! Fyi, I'm working on another story that is sort of a spin-off to this... I'm not gonna say what it's about yet, but let me tell you, it's going to be good. Expect-the-Unexpected75 originally gave me the idea back when it was still "Hold onto Me" and even she doesn't remember what it is... but yeah, I think y'all will love it. Anyway, thanks for the reviews... and keep 'em coming! (I'll update faster ;D) Enjoy!!

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**-Punk's POV-**

"You asshole! You weren't supposed to tell her you knew yet!" John yelled at me the next night, at the arena. He threw the t-shirt he came in on the ground, looking furious.

Would it be bad to say I told her in desperation because I actually _wanted _her to stay and I knew if she left, she wasn't coming back? John didn't know that. It was all a game to him and if the girl got hurt again, then he had won.

I didn't know why he was so obsessed with it. It really wasn't not a healthy thing. I didn't know where the fuck Charity was and it was partly my own fault. Isn't that enough blame for one guy to have on him without his friends ragging on him?

"I had to do something! She was trying to leave!" I yelled back finally, stomping my foot. "Unlike you, I care about her."

"Why?" John challenged back. "She obviously just planned on doing what she did to everyone else to you. That kind of pain isn't needed, Phil! I was trying to help you with this! I figured she wouldn't be able to hurt you that way!"

"Well guess what, John! It's too fucking late! I'm hurt." I glared at him before grabbing my gym bag and storming out of our lockerroom.

"Where are you going?" he yelled to me as I began to leave.

"Wherever the fuck you aren't!" I yelled back, pissed off.

"You just can't—"

"Watch me." I glared at him once more before turning on my heel and storming down the hallway toward someone who wouldn't mind another lockerroom buddy. Maybe someone like Matt Hardy.

**-Charity's POV-**

It took me about a day or so of ongoing driving (except for sleeping in my car for about five hours) to get onto New York borders. Getting through the dreaded traffic of New York City and the parkway would take a couple more until I was truly back home, but it felt _right_ being in the state again, to the familiar air, the familiar crazy drivers and where even if you're nice, the people scowl back at you. It felt good to be home.

I needed to go see him. Well not _him_ per-say, but where I knew the image of what was once him still lived. And maybe go find my mother and tell her I was still alive.

But by the time I got to my old town, it was dark and the cool late summer air was setting in and I knew the cemetery would be closed. Maybe it was the adrenaline set inside of me from the ride home, or maybe, I was completely loosing my mind, but something inside me told me to go to the cemetery anyway, to find Penn's grave.

A little rush never hurt anyone, right?

Sure, I could have waited until the next day, but I was fully relying on my gut and my gut told me to be a rebel and jump the fence.

So that was what I did at ten-thirty at night, careful not to be spotted by anyone who could call the police, or better yet scare me so I fell to my death.

Yet, I was in.

And let me tell you, the cemetery is creepy at night, even more creepy than it is during the daytime. I lurked for a bit, having no memory of where they buried my brother. I knew it was by a large cherry bush, but that was it. So, I wandered for the next half hour, in search of a cherry bush.

"Shit," I said when I stumbled over something in the ground. My eyes wavered down and I was utterly confused with what I saw. A single rose laid on the ground, in perfect condition. It was not the least bit wilted nor did it look like it was there for a while. In the summer heat of New York it would have absorbed the humid in the air and died without water.

"What the hell," I murmured, wondering who was possibly around not too long ago to drop this. It had to be fresh, definitely within the hour.

As I held the rose close to my heart, I looked around me. The graves were scattered here, some a good amount of feet apart. Not any of them looked like the rose belonged there.

"This is so weird." I spun its step around, studying it. And then, I saw it, the cherry bush. I grinned wildly and jogged forward, running so I could get across the narrow path or road to the other side. There were more grave stones there and I knew I was in the right place.

Another rose.

I stared at it on the ground, wondering if I was seeing things. It took was in perfect condition. Slowly, I bent down and picked it up, my finger getting nicked by one of the thorns. "Ow," I moaned, sucking on my thumb.

So I continued, still utterly confused until I came up to Penn's grave and the little trinkets I was sure my mother had placed there not too long before. I kneeled down, next to the grave, rubbing my finger against the cool granite.

"I'm here," I said softly. "Please tell me I'm not loosing my mind."

Silence.

Maybe I was.

A sudden strong gust of wind on a calm night scared me, nearly throwing the two roses I held loosely in my hands into the wind. I looked up, frightened, when I saw the figure. It was very translucent and whether anyone would believe me or not: It was my brother.

I gasped, dropping both of the roses to the ground.

He chuckled, a ghostly, soft chuckle. "Charity," the figure of my brother said.

Oh, I was definitely loosing my mind.

"Penn?" I asked in disbelief.

He laughed again. "Yes."

"I'm loosing it."

"More so than when you heard me in your head?"

Maybe I should have checked myself into a mental home…

"Stop trying to think of ways why this can't be happening."

I frowned. "I wasn't."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then what?"

"I was thinking I should go to the nearest mental home and check myself in for hallucinations."

Penn roared out a laugh. "Still funny. I can't believe you actually came here though."

"Why'd you leave?" I demanded even though I was still freaked.

He shrugged. "I have my reasons."

"Care to share?"

"Nah." I glared at him. "Though, I do miss Alice. She's hot."

I groaned, slapping his grave stone. "Shut up."

"Anyway," he said, still laughing. "Time for business. I see you found your roses." I nodded, touching them delicately. "I'm glad you did. Because I got them for a reason. They symbolize people."

Looking at the roses, I wondered. "Who?"

"Figure it out."

"You—"

"Wrong."

I frowned. "Mom?" He shook his head. "Shannon?" I asked finally. He nodded. "And Matt?" I asked decisively. He nodded again, and then pulled out a third rose.

"One more."

"Who?" I asked.

"These symbolize the most important people in your life at the moment, whether you realize it or not," he said, probably for a hint.

"You," I said firmly again.

"Nope."

"Punk," I whispered finally.

"Yes and all of these people love you very much as well do Beth and Jeff. When I said those words to you in the letter, I thought you'd take them to heart," he said sadly.

"What words?"

He sighed, and then quoted, "_You'll move on from this, but knowing you, it will take time and a lot of faith in yourself._"

"I have moved on," I pointed out.

"Not in the right direction. I wanted you with them, safe with the guys."

"Then why didn't you tell me that in Chicago?" I wailed.

"There are some things a brother can't even make a sister understand. You were so miserable you wouldn't have listened anyway." I scowled. "And I thought you'd never lose your faith in yourself, but you did. So I just guided you, I mean, I did say things to tell you to leave before then, but I never really said anything to say 'do it now'. I thought you'd understand finally. It sure as hell took you a long time to." He smirked.

"Thanks, Penn," I muttered.

"Anyway," he continued. "I'm proud of you. I'm proud of what you did yesterday and I'm proud that you finally understand. This is a new you, the new you that should have happened two months ago. When I said new you, I didn't mean run away. Running away is _never_ the answer, Char."

"I know," I whispered.

"You do," he agreed. "So here's my last thing I'll say because my job here is done. Go back to Matt and Shannon and everyone. Tell them how sorry you are and don't give up. Never forget that you're never alone in this because you're not. You always have me, even if it's only in memories and in your heart."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying my work here is done," he repeated. "You won't hear from me again. Take what I said truly to heart this time, Char. Please, don't make any more mistakes as giant as this."

I nodded.

"So…" I started. "This is it?"

Penn's figure nodded sadly. "You've done it, Char. You've gotten the new you. Never forget about those roses." He handed me the third rose, which I put quickly with the others to my heart. "And never forget me."

Tears welled in my eyes. "I won't. Don't go."

"I have to," he said with a laugh.

"No, you don't."

"I do," he said softly. "But I'm always with you, no matter what. I promise you that. I love you, kiddo." With that there was another strong gust of wind and his figure vanished, leaving me staring at the open cemetery wondering if maybe, just maybe, he was right.

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	20. A surprise, here we are

**Hey everyone! Hope you're having a good night… or day depending on where you are. I'm having trouble with my internet explorer so I'm uploading this separately (it freezes when I try to copy and paste) so excuse any different formatting than normal. :) And thank you for the reviews and keep 'em coming, because I'll keep updating! ;) Enjoy**!

--

It's funny when you go back to a place that was never even home to begin with it suddenly seems right. I arrived back in Chicago another day later, the much windier air welcoming me. I smiled as I got closer to the city of Chicago, preparing to drop off my rental and trek the rest of the way home by foot.

_I'm always with you, no matter what. I promise you that_.

Smiling, I sat in the traffic with a whole new spirit. Even though I knew I had a long way to go, knowing that for once in my life a choice I made was something _good_ made me feel wonderful. The sort of "jump on your car and do the jig" kind of wonderful… but uh, I don't think doing that on a highway would be a very good idea.

Especially when it was standstill and everyone would be watching.

So, why not check your messages? I did so, seeing nothing new. With another smile, I remembered I had never deleted anyone's numbers, only transferred them to my new phone and number out of pure fear. Explain that, if you will. I slowly shifted through my numbers, I pulled up Matt's.

**Sent to:** Matt

**From:** Charity

**5:49 p.m.**

_Heyy. Just letting you know, I'm nearly back in Chicago. Still around?_

I sat in the traffic, hoping he'd answer, wondering if he'd even recognize the number or who was texting him. Matt could easily pass it off as a crazy fan who somehow found his number.

**Beep-Beep-Beep**

**From: **Matt

**Sent to: **Charity

**5:51 p.m.**

_Actually, yeah. The wind is bad, so our plan was delayed until eleven tonight._

I couldn't help but grin wildly. How come luck was finally on my side after so long? Quickly, I texted a reply:

**Sent to: **Matt

**From:** Charity

**5:52 p.m.**

_Great! I'm going to go home… to my apartment. Uhm, are you at the hotel?_

I sat in anxiety for about a minute (yes, I'm that pathetic) until the phone, not my text ringer, began to ring. My eyes widened when I saw it was Matt, though I was quick to pick it up.

"Matt!" I said eagerly.

"Hey Charity. I figured it would be easier to just call you." There was a faint, almost unnoticeable chuckle from the other side of the line. "Why don't you go home first and then meet me at the hotel?"

I nodded then thought about how he couldn't see me. "Sure," I replied then, shaking my head with embarrassment. "That's fine. I'll see you then, I guess, right?"

"Right," he said. "Hey… Charity?"

"Yeah?"

"Nothing," he murmured, voice low. "I'll see you soon." I nodded and hung up, wishing the traffic would move at least faster than a snail's pace.

-

It was almost seven when I got to my apartment building and not only was I absolutely exhausted, but my stomach rumbled. It would have to wait though, I had a Hardy to convince.

With a quick motion, I ran to change and throw my bags into my room. My spirit was renewed; I felt like a new person as I ran around my house like the road-runner, trying to look decent and _not_ like I'd just traveled almost a day straight without a shower.

What to wear? I hated my wardrobe suddenly.

Frowning, I pulled on a pair of old dark-wash jeans and a fitted band t-shirt. With one look in the mirror I considered myself okay to see Matt.

Except I didn't expect to hear a loud crash in the apartment next to mine… a crash that sounded like breaking glass followed by muffled profanities.

I knew right then that Punk was mad at me but the utter curiosity and wonder got me going toward the front door before reality set in and I asked myself, _what am I doing? He hates me._

And there was Penn's face, a frown upon it inside of my head. _He's my friend, whether he's mad at me or not,_ I concluded. _And glass crashing is never a good thing…_

My arm rose up to pull the door open and I had to force myself out, the two voices in my head still trying to argue over if what I was doing was correct. It took the best of my ability to force them both out and to listen to my heart, which was telling me see what was going on with Punk.

Much to my surprise, Punk's door was ajar. _Did someone break in?_ I thought in a panic. _Should I call the police?_ But what if Punk was in there? What if the crash was a robber who had knocked Punk out and fled? Many different possibilities flooded my head in the few seconds it took my heart to react and open the door slowly. I definitely, in a million, billion, trillion years did I expect to see what I saw on the other side.

"Shannon!" I gasped, falling backward from the shock on his face. He stared at me like a deer caught in the headlights as he held a towel to his arm. I looked around me then, breaking his gaze. Even for an apartment that was lowly furnished it was empty. The couch was gone and the only things left were things I'd assume Punk got with the apartment. On the floor in the kitchen was a glass which seemed to once contain water before it shattered.

"Charity," came his reply, just as stunned as I was. "What are you doing here?"

With a small smile – I wasn't even sure where it came from or where I was finding my voice – I shrugged. "I could ask you the same question."

He rolled his eyes, coming closer. "I asked you first."

"Uh… I live next door and I heard a crash?" I asked in a low voice. "Why are you in Punk's apartment… where is he? And why is all his stuff gone?"

Shannon's eyes narrowed to little green slits and he asked me in an even lower voice, "How does it feel to have someone run away on you?"

--

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	21. I hate myself for losing you

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N:_** Hey everyone! Thanks for the reviews... keep 'em coming! I know this is an uber fast update for me, but I'm excited. We're nearing the end of the story, I'd say five more chapters maxiumum! ;D Enjoy!

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The tone he used scared me and a forced out an awkward chuckle. "What are you talking about?" Looking around me, I made sure my eyes hadn't been deceiving me. Nope, all of Punk's stuff was gone. "Where is Punk?"

"Gone." Well thank you Captain Obvious.

Shannon was getting on my nerves and he knew it too. "Shannon, _where_ did he go?"

He shrugged, starting to make his way toward the broke glass. I could see a little blood on the towel as it flared in the air. "I'm not tellin' you." I wanted to scream, I wanted to kick, I wanted to throw myself at him and do both of those things… but I just stared instead. "Are you done here?"

Another humorless laugh. "I'm not leaving until you tell me where Punk is and why the hell you're in his apartment."

"I'll tell you why I'm here. I got a call from someone last night, told me to get my ass to Chicago. So here I am."

"In Punk's apartment," I added.

"Which is none of your business," he chirped.

"Excuse me for caring when I heard a crash!" I yelled back, stomping my foot. And I thought I was the immature one. There was a twenty-nine-year-old standing to my right, acting like a boy with a brain of a five-year-old.

"How did—"

I smirked. "There apartments are paper thin walled."

When he noticed I truly wasn't leaving, he peered up from the floor, staring at me with angered jade eyes. "Why are you here anyway? I thought you went somewhere."

"You talked to Matt!" I accused, getting even more annoyed myself. Why did Matt have to call Shannon? This was something I had planned to start with myself, getting Matt to understand, then work my way up. Shannon being here already made me pissed and very afraid too – just how far away were Jeff and Beth?

"Yeah, I did."

"Why are you treating me like this?" I whined without thinking.

I had never seen a man jump up from the ground faster than he did. And within seconds, I was cornered to a wall. His fingers were in the middle of my chest and when he started to talk I had to truly listen carefully to keep up, though all he did was repeat the same question over and over. "Why am I treating you like this?" Laugh. "Why am _I_ treating you like this?" The answer was simple and I figured it out just two seconds after I asked my own question. "Charity are you fucking dumb?"

I went to answer—

"No, don't answer that… I know you are. Because anyone who does something like you did fucking is a moron… no, not a moron. A complete asshole that has no feelings for anyone but themselves. You fucking left me in New York, Charity! After I came up there and tried to explain myself!" He ranted on about that for a good five minutes.

I continued to sulk into the wall, hoping to disappear. The new, ready to be "grownup" Charity was evaporating fast with each angered word he threw at me. "I'm sorry," I finally whispered, looking to the ground.

His voice rose once more, "You're sorry? You're _sorry?_" Shannon laughed at me. "I can't fucking believe this!" He shot back toward the broken glass and went back to cleaning it. "Ow!" he moaned when a large piece slipped into his finger.

And for some reason, I walked my way over there, kneeling down quietly. Shannon didn't look up when I started to clean it up with him. I knew he was unsure what I was doing though as his breathing was labored and his body seemed tense. "You're bleeding," I whispered, watching the red liquid drip to the floor.

"I know that," he snapped.

Slowly, I got up and went back to where he dropped the towel, bringing it to him and pressing it against his new cut. "I'm sorry," I told him honestly when he looked up. Quickly, he looked away, eyes narrowed again.

Then with one quick motion, he ripped the towel away and turned around. He got up and began walking into the living room. I sighed quietly; unsure if anything I said even mattered anymore. What I did… maybe it _was _too late to fix it since it seemed anything I said just made Shannon angrier.

Yet, there was a fight in me which didn't seem to go away. "What do you want me to say?" I called to him, shaking hands on my hips. "I don't know what to say anymore. All I know is that I've spent the past two months living a complete hell and I don't want to torture myself anymore."

"Charity, go away."

"Shannon—"

"This time do the right fucking thing and get out of here, now," he said in a grave voice, barely audible for me to hear, even in an apartment building like mine. I nodded, knowing anything I did wasn't going to help… plus, I still had to meet Matt. And if I could at least get him on my side… maybe Shannon would come around. But when he turned around to face me the cold, death-like glare in his eyes certainly cut any confidence left in me down to zero. I nodded once to him and slipped out the door.

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**Read and review and update I shall. :3**


	22. If time could find a way to turn around

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N:_** Ello, ello! Thank you sooo much for the reviews. I'm so excited for this story now... and I can't wait for the spin-off type thing I'm doing. I started writing it last night and I think it's going to be something special. Hmmm... that's about it. Hope y'all enjoy the chapter! :)

* * *

I walked slowly to the hotel, holding back an ocean's amount of tears. Weakness could wait until I was behind closed doors. I definitely didn't need to show that my new attitude was already crushed. I'm sure Penn was disappointed in me, but what could I have done to change Shannon's mind? He was stubborn that's for sure. It hurt knowing how bad I had hurt him and it hurt knowing he wouldn't even hear me out. What was I going to do?

I arrived at the hotel five minutes later, not seeing Matt anywhere in the lobby. _Wonderful_, I thought and went to turn around instead seeing the one who helped cause the mess to get bigger. My eyes narrowed as he talked to Maryse, a smirk on his lips.

I didn't care anymore. I rushed in his direction, ignoring the odd and bewildered look the French diva was giving me. "John," I snapped, eyes narrowing. "Can I talk to you please?"

He stared at me, eyes widening a little. I guess he didn't expect me to stick around her. Oh how he was wrong. "Charity… I'm a little busy," he said finally, motioning to Maryse who still seemed confused by my jolting introduction.

With a quick and warming smile, I asked, "Maryse, right?" She nodded. "Can I just speak to John for a moment? It'll be quick." _Maybe not painless though…_

"Sure," she said, a hint of her accent coming through. She gave me a perplexed smile and walked off into the direction opposite of where I came in.

"John," I spat out. "Where is he?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" John ranted back, tapping my shoulder. "Who the fuck told you—"

"I _said_ where is he?" I growled, my lip barring. Never before had I been angrier at someone who had purposely caused so much havoc. If it meant I would possibly go to jail for hitting a pro-wrestler, so be it because I wasn't leaving without knowing where he was – Punk, that is.

"Who?" John said back, eyes narrowing in a confused matter. "What the fuck are you even talking about?"

"Punk!" I threw my hands up in aggravation. "Where is he?"

John shrugged. "Home, maybe?"

"You asshole! His stuff is gone… the apartment was empty when I got there!"

"You're kidding."

I glared heavily at John, poking his shoulder. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

John didn't survey me but shook his head slowly. "Truthfully, it's the most you've stood up in a while," he said with another smirk. "And I don't know where Punk is."

I screamed. "Don't fucking lie to me, John!"

Everyone in the lobby looked up at us. "Seriously, Charity. I wish I did, but I don't. You said it was empty when you got there… how'd you even get in?"

A little light bulb flashed above my head. "Shannon," I growled under my breath. Looking up, I shook my head quickly, forgetting about Punk for a second to only think about where I came her for. "Where is Matt?"

"Probably in his room, I don't know."

"Find out!" I nearly shouted again. When he just stared back at me, I turned to beg. "Please," I pleaded. "John, I know you know where it is. Take me there. I was supposed to meet him and—"

"Charity?" a voice said. Matt? I turned around, glad to see the tall brunette Hardy standing next to me. One look at my frazzled state told him I knew about Shannon. "What the—"

"Thanks John," I said in a low voice, turning around to wave but John was already gone. I couldn't blame him. Everything about me was unstable and who knew when I was going to honestly blow the roof off. Between Shannon's return and Punk's disappearance and Matt standing next to me, I was a whirlpool of unsteady emotions.

"What is going on?" Matt asked softly. "You look—"

"I know what I look like," I told him, looking around me. "Can we go somewhere private before this ends up on the internet?"

Even that made both of us laugh as he nodded, taking me by the arm and leading me to the elevator. We stood in silence as it dragged us up to the third floor. We got off there and Matt led me to his hotel room, quickly closing the door behind us.

"You called Shannon," I accused before he even turned around.

He had a guilty look on his face when he did and shrugged. "He did deserve to know."

"Matt," I whined. "Why did you have to do that? I—" Something made me stop. Why didn't I want him here? I did, truly. Just because he shocked me with his return didn't mean I didn't want to see Shannon again. I was willing to say if it had been under better circumstances it wouldn't have ended like it did.

"I thought…" Matt trailed off too. He looked a bit lost in thought.

"Where is Punk?" I asked then, remembering the missing friend of mine.

"What do you mean?"

"He's gone," I said flatly. "His apartment was empty when I got back and Shannon was there."

Matt nodded, shaking his head. "I didn't think he'd go through with it."

"Go through with what?" I nearly shrieked from worry. "Where is Punk?"

"Punk's fine," Matt said calmly. "That is a question you should be asking Shannon."

"I did." With a sour expression on my face Matt already knew our confrontation ended badly. "And he hates me and didn't tell me."

"I see. I don't blame him."

"Whose side are you on?" I said a bit too quickly and knew I was a moron after I asked.

"Shannon's obviously."

I nodded slowly. "What about now? What about me? Do I get a second chance? I… I want a second chance."

"That's not up to me."

"What do you mean? You—"

"I mean, it is to a degree. But I'm one person… there are at least three other people you hurt when you pulled that damn stunt, Charity." He stared seriously at me, sort of how a father would when he wanted you to admit you had been out partying all night.

"I know that. But if you forgive me, maybe Shannon will actually listen to me," I said in a child's voice. "I'm willing to prove that I am sorry."

"Oh, I don't doubt you're sorry, I mean, I know you are, Charity. It's more than that."

Looking at him flatly, I went, "Huh?"

He chuckled, patting the bed next to him where his good-looking butt sat. Carefully I sat next to him, feeling the excited thrill inside of me still when I was anywhere near him. "The thing is," he said slowly, "we never expected this when we agreed to do the contest. I mean, would you?"

"No. Of course not. Most people would expect a normal person to come live with them not a freak."

Matt shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that," he groaned. "And you're not a freak."

For some reason that made me smile and I reached to hug Matt. He tensed at first and then welcomed me into his bear-like arms. Matt really was just an over-sized Teddy Bear to me the more I got to see him, or know him. He just cared too much about things sometimes, I was learning. "Thank you," I whispered.

He nodded and continued, "I meant that we never expected there to be such a lasting… effect I guess. We expected a fan to come down for a week and then we'd never hear from them again. Never did I expect Shannon to fall for you… gives a meaning to the whole '_love a first sight_' thing, huh?" I shrugged, a little embarrassed talking about my time spent with them. It was an embarrassing week in general and except for the amazing parts I never wanted to forget, the others could fade far into the distance for all I could car. "Anyway, when your brother died Jeff said to me that we got so much more than we bargained for and he was right. I mean, you reminded me sort of like Lita in a way."

My eyes widened. "Lita? Amy Dumas, Lita?"

Matt chuckled. "That Lita, yes. You have a few of her traits and I sort of let that go to my head… but that's not really important, honestly. It's just when you decided that you were leaving, none of us could believe it. Honestly not to sound like we all have big egos, who would seriously leave a life that could mean living with a pro-wrestler?"

I blushed, looking to the floor. What kind of person would do that? Any normal fan would jump at the chance to date and marry their favorite wrestler. Then again, I didn't even like Shannon when I first got to North Carolina…

"An idiot," I mumbled.

Matt laughed again. "Maybe, but who knows? But we were all so confused and Shannon took it the hardest obviously. For a while it confused all of us… he barely knew you and you basically told him to get lost or go play in traffic and yet he still cared on finding where you were. For about two weeks straight that was all he did. And then he started to miss shows and stupid shit that made Vince McMahon pissed and got the pink slip."

"Because of me," I finished.

"No, because he was stupid," Matt answered. "Shannon did something I pretty much did back three years ago. Not exactly the same case, but you get the point. I told him you weren't going to be found until you wanted to be. And we fought about that a lot… it really did get all of us fighting." I cringed, wishing I hadn't known the details. "But I always said that you'd come out from hiding. Little did I expect to hear from John that he had spotted you or the damn fact that you were living next to Punk."

A small smile slipped onto my face. "I didn't even know it for the first month I lived there."

"Interesting," he agreed. "But you know… there is more to this. You might not have thought so but this truly tore Shannon apart… oddly enough. Never did I expect someone like Shannon to just go so…"

"I know what you mean."

Matt offered me a sad smile. "Yeah."

"But I know what I've done now," I said quickly, leaning closer to Matt. "I know I can't make up the past few months but I want a second chance. It's a lot to ask and I know that you guys will never trust me again… but…" Tears started to fall freely from my eyes. "I just miss everyone. I miss the life I lived if only for a week. My brother knew all along."

"Huh?" Matt asked. "Penn's…"

"It's a long story for another time," I explained. "I just…" What else could I say? I didn't have anything to say in my defense to help my case. I was just hoping that somehow the impact I left was one enough that the people I had hurt the most would want me back.

"I know," he said delicately, hugging my shoulder. "It's going to take time though. And I think that maybe you should call Beth too. I think she found a friend in you."

"Does that mean…?" I asked hopefully, my eyes glistening with tears though there was a new found hope in me as I stared at the elder Hardy brother. He was quick to nod and pull me into a hug. "I don't deserve another chance… but I'm glad I'm getting one," I told him gently.

He nodded. "I know. Just remember… I'm probably the easiest to convince."

Solemn replaced my hopeful mood quickly. "Don't remind me…" Matt shook up, pulling me with him. "You know… you never told me where Punk is."

"Home," Matt said flatly, with a roll of his eyes.

"What? I told you, I was there and it was e—"

"Shannon's an asshole. He planned that."

"You're confusing me…" I trailed off.

"All of Punk's shit is in his room and he was in there too. Shannon wanted to teach you a lesson and I didn't think Phil would actually go along with it," Matt mumbled. "It really was stupid. Like pretending that Punk left was actually going to do anything."

"He must be really mad at me," I groaned. "Or just really—"

"Shannon can persuade anyone, anything."

"I'm starting to see that," I mumbled, shaking my head. "If you don't mind, I need to get back to my apartment."

Matt released a toothy smile and nodded. "If I hear a female's voice from here I'll know it's you."

"Not happening," I told him with another smile as I turned around.

"Charity, wait."

I flipped back around, a newly worried expression on my face as he wrapped me into another large hug. Another knew confidence was planted inside of me. With a wide and secure smile, I nodded. "Thanks Matt."

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**Read and review and update I shall. :3**


	23. Trouble always has a door you can break

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N:_** Hey, hey! Sorry for the wait of this chapter. I had the week from hell last week. But a snow day today! YAY! So I'm working to update a bunch of my stories, of course. Coming close to the end now... hope you all enjoy!

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For some reason, every time I spoke to Matt my spirits were lifted. I practically flew back to my apartment building, ignoring the nerves that shook inside of me. They couldn't stop me anymore; I had Matt on my side. Matt was a good start. Hopefully, he wouldn't too be the end.

I came up to the large building minutes later. Running to the elevator, I climbed inside and took a deep breath. I was going back into that room with no plan whatsoever and everything I would say would be improvisation. A little voice in the back of my head told me maybe I should think of a plan first, something to start with.

I ignored that voice. For once in my life, I was following my heart, following what I believed was right. What was right was sitting right next door to my apartment, probably thinking of new ways to torture me like I tortured him.

The elevator beeped, alerting me I was coming to my floor. With an anxious expression, I stared at the doors. Yet, when they opened, I got the biggest surprise of my day so far.

"Punk!" I gasped, falling backward into the elevator and to the floor. He stared back at me for a moment, both of us flabbergasted. I opened my mouth to speak, but found I couldn't. Maybe I should have thought up a plan. Certainly running into my neighbor on the elevator could never happen! If you didn't notice, that was sarcasm.

He didn't move, only kept staring. I scrambled to my feet, dusting my behind off. Our eyes locked as I stepped off the elevator, too unsure of what to say. I never imagined a conversation with Punk to be awkward; he always had that ease to him when we were together. I felt like I knew him for so much longer than I truly did.

"Punk?" I tried carefully. "Can you say something to me?"

Punk's eyes adjusted, realizing staring me down wasn't going to do anything.

"I… uh—" He cut himself off, a bewildered expression taking over his face.

I found my voice instead. "How could you do that to me? Why would you go along with Shannon?" I tried to hide the hurt from my voice but it came through anyway. Punk averted my gaze. I wanted nothing more to make everything okay again and to go back to his apartment; to talk about anything and nothing, with the people who had the ability to make me whole again.

And for the first time, the anger rose inside of me. "Punk, answer me." If I called him a coward, I'd be a hypocrite. But did it matter anymore, anyway? It probably didn't, but I was on shaky ground already and testing to see how strong the earthquake would be would not be a very bright idea.

"I need to go," he mumbled, stalking off behind me, to his apartment.

The answer inside of me bubbled. "No!" I yelled, running after him. "You can't just start pulling this!"

This made him snap around. "What?"

"You heard me!"

Punk laughed, pushing me off of him. "Get away from me, Charity. I'm done playing these fuckin' games you're playing. This isn't high school and I'm not dealing with this drama anymore."

Like a child, I stomped my foot. "Phil!" I whined, coming after him. Going down the childish route was not something I wanted to do, but he was giving me no choice. How else could I get him to listen? How could I get anyone to listen? Matt had been right when he said he would be the easiest to convince.

"Punk!" I complained once me as he opened the door to his apartment, slamming it after him. I screamed in irritation and stomped after him. With one swift movement, I was in front of the door, banging. "Let me in!"

Except, Punk didn't answer the door. The green-eyed blonde I knew as Shannon Brian Moore did. He looked at me, like a lost child as I thrashed about. "You need to calm down," he ordered quietly. "Before someone calls the police on us."

I looked down slowly. "Oops."

I half expected the door to close in my face after that and was more so surprised when it was still open as I looked back up. Shannon looked at me as if he didn't know what to do with me. Punk stood behind him, arms crossed. I felt stupid, suddenly.

"Can I come in?"

Shannon shrugged. "Whatever."

I followed him in, closing the door behind me. All of Punk's things were back in place. They shuffled to the side as I walked into the livingroom and sat down on the couch. It grew too quiet while I stared at the floor; hoping one of them would be the first to speak. I was trying to think of some sort of plan, seeing myself without one wasn't working either.

What could I plan, though?

"What do you want?" Shannon asked quietly.

"You know what I want."

Silence.

I looked up. Neither of them was looking at me.

Silence.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

Silence.

"I don't know what to do with you," Shannon admitted.

I looked up again, trying to show the truth in my words. "Forgive me," I tried. My gray eyes burned into his green ones. It was a gaze I didn't want to break. Maybe it was just me, but there was something there.

"I don't think I should."

"I'm sorry," I continued on, my voice cracking. Crying was not something it should have came to, but the tension in the air and the uncomfortable tones in our voices were making me do so. The tears welled in my eyes as I peered back up slowly, wishing I could take back what I did.

Why couldn't I have just gone along with Shannon when he kissed me that first time? I liked it. I didn't admit that. I never wanted to… until now.

"You don't have to keep saying that."

"I want to," I pressed. "Because I am. Sorry, that is."

Silence.

"Shannon?" I asked quietly.

"What?"

"Do you believe me?"

Silence.

"Shannon," I pleaded.

"I don't know. I'm not sure what to make of this."

That killed me since nothing I was saying seemed to be getting through. I had no back-up plan, nothing else to try. I was hoping the words I spoke were enough to make him believe. Show him that I was serious, the scared little girl who ran away and Charity once was, was gone. It was all I could go on, all I had. And it didn't seem to be enough.

There was one thing I could try, though. So I stood up, my legs threatening to give out. Ignoring them, I walked over to Shannon. He didn't seem scared by me, only unsure. I continued to inch toward him, ignoring Punk's careful eyes. Couldn't he disappear for just a few minutes?

And then, even as Punk watched, I kissed Shannon. No, kissed is the wrong word. I threw everything I was trying to save into it. I pushed my lips onto him, my arms on his body and kissed him, hoping maybe, just maybe it would be enough.

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**Read and review and update I shall. :3**


	24. thats when you know you've found home

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing but the OCs. Anything else belongs to whoever it belongs to. ^__^

**_A/N:_** Hello everyone! Sorry for the long wait of the final chapter. I know in the middle of it it will seem like it's a bit still unraveled, but that will be explained in the sort of spin-off. Anyone forget about that? Well, here it is. Back when I was still writing "Hold onto Me" Expect-the-Unexpected75 suggested I make Charity sort of crazy and make her make the Hardyz life hell. I told her I already had the plan for this story, and maybe anotehr time. So, the spin-off like thing to this will be like that. It'll be a horror story. It won't be up for probably another week or so, but be on the lookout for it. I don't want to go into too much detail, but I promise you, it's gonna be one hell of a story, featuring many WWE stars, Charity, and some OCs. So, that's about it. Here is the final chapter of "Breathe" and I hope you all enjoy. Of course, reviewing would be nice too... HAHA! Enjoy!

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I don't know how long our kissed lasted. All I know is when we broke free; Shannon staggered backwards as if he were drunk. My cheeks reddened as a grin toyed onto his face, though he tried to force it off. I wanted to know what he was thinking. Did men hide what they thought like woman happened to? Did he like it? By the look that he was tried to rid, he did. But men are dogs when it comes to lust. Was I just lust to Shannon?

Slowly, I peeked at Punk. He didn't say anything to me and powered his eyes to the ground quickly. Maybe he felt like he was eavesdropping on something private. Didn't he get that? Couldn't he just disappear for a moment?

"Punk," Shannon said, surprising me. I figured he'd call my name first. Or, at least I was hoping so. My eyes didn't look into either of theirs as I felt the awkwardness climb miles in seconds.

"Huh?"

"Can you… can you… uh leave for a minute?" Shannon asked quietly.

"You want me to leave my own apartment?" he replied in a humorous voice.

I smiled quietly. It was funny to think about. But Shannon meant business as he cleared his throat and said, "Yes. Leave."

Punk huffed once and I heard the door close quietly as it could. Then, I felt him coming toward the couch, something I feared. I didn't do well with kind of stuff. What if he told me to just get lost? Or go run into traffic?

"Charity," he spoke softly, sitting down. He was wearing a gas chamber shirt, the black one he always wore. Sometimes I wondered if that was his entire wardrobe. My eyes watched as his hand coasted slowly over his lap, taking mine. They were warm, so warm. My hands felt right in his, making me smile.

"I—"

"Don't speak," he ordered. "It's my turn to talk."

_That's what I'm afraid of, _I thought, shaking my head. But I didn't say a word. I focused my eyes onto a piece of lint on the floor and waited. Would he say what I wanted him to? Or would he tear me a new one? He was being awfully cruel if it were the latter, being nice to me like he was…

"I'm sorry," he whispered then. My heart froze inside of my chest. Those words should have been coming out of my mouth on repeat, not out of his. What was he sorry for? Sorry for telling me he didn't forgive me, sorry that I'd have to live a life alone. Sorry that the kiss was poison to his lips?

My mind rambled out words before he could continue. "Wait," I pleaded. "I'm sorry, don't make me do this. I don't want this to happen. I just want how it was when I was in North Carolina to be my life. I want to be with you, please don't tell me it won't work. I need you guys, more than I need air, as corny as it sounds. I can't survive without you guys. I'm miserable, I can't—"

"Charity, shut up."

My eyes widened and my mouth snapped shut. He was sick of me saying stupid things. He wanted to get out of there, duh, Charity, duh. He didn't want to hear my lame excuses; he wanted to be on the next plane to North Carolina, home with his dogs, leaving me—

"I forgive you."

My Jaw, meet floor. Floor, meet My Jaw. "What?" I demanded. "Stop lying to me!"

He laughed softly, though I'm not sure why. It wasn't funny! "Charity, I'm not. I forgive you—"

"But—"

"Look, I did some pretty shitty things and I wasn't obviously the smartest guy coming onto an eighteen-year-old when she was already torn to pieces. But you're beautiful, absolutely beautiful and the more I learn about you through the others and how much fun you can be when you let go; I just want to be with you. What you did hurt me…" his voice trailed off, "a lot, but I just… I don't know. Call me a lovesick teenager added with ten years. I couldn't keep my anger once your lips met mine. They're ecstasy to me. My choice of drug. I want to OD on your lips—"

I giggled. It sounded so wrong. "But… why? Why do—"

"I don't know why," he admitted. "You have powerful… ways, I guess."

"That makes _no_ sense, Shannon," I said playfully. It went silent as we both considered this and laughed nervously. Making up shouldn't have been that easy… what was missing?

Then, I remembered. It had sunk to the back of my mind. "I need to talk to Punk," I admitted quickly. "Just wait here."

Shannon looked at me, those green eyes searching my dull pearls. "Okay…"

I didn't have to run far. As soon as I pulled open the door, he fell onto the floor. "You eavesdropped!" I scolded. He looked up sheepishly, scrambling to his feet, looking like a scolded dog. Yet before he could talk, I grabbed him by the cuff of his t-shirt and pulled him toward the elevator. I didn't care how loud I was when I yelled, "We'll be back, Shannon! Don't leave!"

-

We were seated in a nearby coffee shop about ten minutes later. I looked off into the street, ignoring the cappuccino in front of me. Punk looked off into the streets too, probably anticipating our conversation. He had to of heard Shannon and my make-up, so I knew the kiss was on his mind too. Nothing was ever that easy.

Punk turned to the Pepsi he bought from the grocery store on the way. He toyed with the cap, pulling on it slowly. "Only you would drink Pepsi in a coffee shop," I joked lamely. Anything to avoid the conversation.

**-Punk's POV-**

Only Charity would pull me from my apartment late at night. She dragged me down the street, nearly choking me as she stomped around. I knew I was in trouble. Why the fuck did I kiss her? They had just made up… I screwed it up!

"Wait," I demanded. She stopped quickly, nearly making my face meet the wall near us. "I don't like coffee. I'm getting a Pepsi from the store."

And then five minutes later, we were seated in the coffee shop nearest the apartment. She wouldn't look me in the eye; only stare out into the street. I focused on the street for a moment, but decided maybe that wouldn't help any. Instead, I pulled at the Pepsi cap, rolling it on the opening.

"Only you would drink Pepsi in a coffee shot," she joked quietly, fear caked in her voice. Her normally ivory complexion was ghost white, making her look even worse. I knew she was terrified and I knew what she wanted to talk about.

My lip curved into a smile, one she attempted to return, but wouldn't fully allow. I sighed quickly. "Just spit it out," I mumbled. "I know why you brought me here."

"The kiss," she agreed. "It wasn't—"

"Wasn't what?"

She sighed, pulling at her shirt. I followed her eyes as she gazed lazily around the tiny café-like shop. The owner stared at as she as cleaned a nearby table. Maybe she knew who I was.

Charity squirmed, making her look kiddish. It was really cute. Small already, when she got antsy it made her look even smaller and more child-like. "It didn't mean anything, right?" she rambled out quickly. "Just something that you did… just cause—"

We both knew it was more than that. I couldn't believe I had fallen for her. The way I could watch anything she did without getting bored. A lovesick puppy that had turned soft. I wasn't a softie, never had been. I am CM Punk. I didn't get like that. She made me that way.

But I knew she loved him. Loved him more than she could ever love me, no matter if I won her heart or not. Shannon had her heart wrapped around his with a tight string. Nothing I could say or do would chance that. "Of course not," I agreed. "It was nothing more than a fluke."

We both knew it was a lame excuse, but a bright smile returned to her face. She jumped up and hugged me, her tiny body fitting perfectly into mine. It felt wonderful and I wanted to explore her in so many ways. Ditch the straight-edge thing and get it on right there, on the table. But I couldn't, because I was second-best. I would be the best friend who always watched from behind, in love when she spent her life with her soul-mate.

"Thank you, Punk," she said quickly as I got up. I grabbed her coffee and my soda, hoping to not look like my spirit was crushed when it truly was.

"Let's go back to my place and make sure Shannon hasn't set it on fire," I joked. She smiled, her face glowing. She loved him… she didn't love me.

**-Charity's POV- Cameron, ****North Carolina**** – two weeks later**

I couldn't believe I was finally back in Cameron. Let alone with Shannon, holding his hand. Everyone else seemed to have forgiven me, even Beth, though it was still rocky with her. She's been really moody lately. I didn't know why, but I wasn't going to push it. Matt just told me to be careful around her, she'd snap at me and get heated for no reason.

Which was why I was so nervous, entering the Hardy household after a long absence.

When we came in, Shannon's hand gripping mine, I saw nothing had changed. Little Lucas yapped his head off and Beth came into view. She looked as if maybe she gained a little weight.

"Hey," I said carefully. I had only spoken to her on the phone, so I was expecting a very awkward meeting.

Yet, she came up to me and closed her arms around mine. Beth smiled, looking at me. "You cut your hair," she observed.

"Long story."

"I hate it like that," Shannon piped in.

"No one asked you," Beth barked back. Shannon rolled his eyes at her, releasing my hand. Well it looks like some things never change.

Minutes later, we were all seated around the couch in Matt's livingroom. It reminded me of the night the power went out and how we had played truth or dare with everyone in the storm. Memories.

"So why is everyone so quiet?" I asked nervously. No one had spoken a word since we came into there and I was beginning to wonder if it was all a joke and they were going to tell me to leave; to get lost. "Did I—"

"You did nothing," Beth answered with a smile. "I have news."

"News?"

Beth smiled taking one of Jeff's hands, her other hand touching her stomach. I knew before she even spoke and tears welled in my eyes. "I'm pregnant," she confirmed, a wide smile on her face. It suddenly made sense, everything that Matt had been saying to me.

"You're pregnant?" I shrieked, turning to Matt. "You could have told me!"

Matt shrugged. "And get killed by hormone crazy over here? Oh hell no!"

Beth growled. I got up before she could clubber him and hugged her tightly. "Congrats!" We sat locked there in our hug for what seemed like forever. I let go though, realizing everyone was staring at me. "Girl or boy?"

"Don't know yet," Beth smiled.

I hugged Jeff quickly and took my seat back next to Shannon. He nuzzled against me, a goofy smile on his face. "So, when is our turn?" he asked with a wink.

I shrieked, slapping him. "When you're fifty!" I claimed, throwing the nearest pillow at him.

Everyone began to bellow out laughs then while I turned red. Soon enough though, as everyone began to talk about the new-coming Hardy and how everything had done a complete turnaround in less than six months, I knew something I should have known all along: I was home.

* * *

**Well, that's all folks! Review, please! :D And thank you to all who have reviewed and have made this sequel a success. Be sure to check out my other stories! :)**


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